The Wheel and the Disk

The Bone Moon

2012-02-13T13:29:00.000-08:00

Full Fasting Moon

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It is the full moon (er.. a little past) of the month that Annette Hinshaw calls the Fasting Moon and Jessica Prentice calls the Hunger Moon. It is late in the winter and in milder climates spring may be hinting at it's arrival, but it is not yet here. There is an old saying in New England, though, "half the wood and half the hay you should have left on Candlemas day." In those northern places winter is only half over. Both Annette Hinshaw and Jessica Prentice write about how we can manage our resources during these hard times through our choices and our connections.

In our post industrial, urban world many of us don't even notice that there is a seasonality to the abundance or lack of food. The farmers markets may not be open this time of year, and we may be missing tasty peaches and strawberries, but everything else is still available in our local mega mart. I visited a small produce market near my new school last week that focuses on local foods and found a vast abundance of good looking produce. As expected they had lovely apples from this autumn's harvest stacked in crates out front and piles of local hardy greens but they also had bell peppers, celery, fresh herbs and even a few hot house tomatoes. We never have to fast to conserve resources and when people in our country are hungry it is from lack of money, not the unavailability of food.

Menudo by scaredy_kat

Traditional cultures knew the value of foods that stretch resources and can provide nourishing food even when the stores are low. Dried grains, root crops, fermented vegetables, hard cheeses and soups are the staple foods of most European cultures and the winter foods of Asia and North America are similar. The hearty soups that people across the globe eat during hard times to keep nourished and elevate into high cuisine in the good times are all based on one important food source - animal bones. Chinese egg drop soup, Korean gomguk, Thai tom yum, Norweigian cabbage soup, Russian shchi, Irish mutton stew, French onion soup, Mexican menudo and Cherokee pepper pot stew are all traditional soups that start with animal bones and end with a warm, nutritious meal perfect for late winter. In the Cherokee calendar, this month of the year is called the Bone Moon. I think that is fitting.

I make stock out of chicken, beef and whatever other bones make their way through my kitchen on a regular basis. I collect bones, both raw and cooked, along with vegetable scraps in a plastic zip bag in the freezer and make stock when I have about a gallon of scraps. The stock can simmer for a few hours, or a few days before you have to deal with it again, and the finished stock can stay in your fridge for a few days or your freezer for a few months. We use it to make soup, stew, polenta, rice and many other dishes that are infinetly more delicious and nutritious when made with home made stock. In fact, last weekend, my sister made a most delicious white bean and kale soup with homemade stock.

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Home Made Bone Stock

1/2 -1 gallon of assorted chicken, pork, beef or other bones (use mostly chicken, with some others... for beef stock see these instructions)

4-6 cups of assorted vegetable scraps from carrots, onions, garlic, celery, mushrooms or other non-cruciferous (cabbage family) vegetables

1 onion, cut in half with skin (if not enough onion in the veggie scraps)

2-4 cloves of garlic, smashed with skins (if not enough garlic in the veggie scraps)

2 tbs cider vinegar or 1/4 cup white wine1 tsp whole pepper corns

1-2 tsp salt

fresh or dried herbs including thyme, rosemary, sage or bay (optional)

Put the bones and veggies in a large stock pot (spaghetti pot or larger) and cover with cold water. Add the vinegar or wine and slowly bring the pot to a boil. If your bones are frozen, you can turn the heat to medium until everything is defrosted and warm, then up to high to boil. As it comes to a boil, skim any foam that rises to the top off and discard (don't skim too much fat off if you have it on top of the pot, that's good stuff!). Add the salt, peppercorns and optional herbs. Put a lid on the pot, turn the heat down to low or medium low to maintain a slow simmer.

Kale and White Bean Soup by little blue hen

Chicken stock is ready to strain and use after 4-6 hours, but can also be cooked considerably longer. I often simmer for a few hours, put the lid on and turn the heat off, then bring back to a boil and simmer again the next day. I've never gotten sick, yet, but if you are worried, just strain and refridgerate your stock whenever you are done letting it simmer. I strain my stock through a colander with or without a wire sieve in it (depending on how lazy I am feeling - I don't mind a cloudy stock) and pour it into various sized plastic containers to go into the freezer.

White Bean and Kale Soup

2 quarts home made chicken stock, or a mix of stock and water

2 tbs olive oil, chicken fat or bacon fat

1 linguica sausage, chopped

1 onion, chopped fine

3 cloves of garlic, sliced, chopped or pressed

2 tsp red pepper flakes

1 tsp Italian seasoning

Salt and pepper to taste

1 can white beans, drained and rinsed or 2 cups homemade white beans

1 quart of kale, trimmed and chopped

1-3 tsp lemon juice or cider vinegar

In 4 quart soup pot, heat the oil and fry the linguica until it has rendered it's fat and is starting to brown. Add the onion, pepper flakes and Italian seasoning along with some salt and pepper. Fry until the onion is soft and golden and add the garlic, frying another minute or so until fragrant.

Add the chicken stock and bring to a boil. Lower the heat to a simmer and add the white beans and kale. Cook for at least 10 minutes or until the beans are hot and the kale is wilted and soft. Adjust the seasoning with salt, pepper and lemon juice. Serve with cheese toasts, croutons, sauer kraut or whatever garnishes you like on soup.

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Every Jewish grandmother knows that chicken soup will cure what ails you, from colds and flu to a broken heart or wrinkley face. Modern science is piling up more and more evidence that she is right. The connective tissue in bones and carcasses is full of gelatin and other nutrients that support healthy bones, joints, skin and hair. Gelatin is also a very nutritious and soothing protein that people of all ages and health levels can digest. Bone marrow, the fatty middle part of long bones, is an especially nutritious food that might support immune function but definitely supports a delicious meal. You can ask your butcher to cut long bones into

Silky Healthful Fat by Sifu Renka

2-3 inch slices, roast the bones and then pull the marrow out and spread it on toast. The marrow course was the highlight of my sister and I's recent trip to a fancy restaurant in downtown Portland.

In addition to being good for the body, making stock is good for the soul and spirit, too. It is recycling at it's best and a truly respectful way to treat the animals we use for food. Bart Everson speaks eloquently of this transformation and what it means to him on the blog Humanistic Paganism. I know, too, that there is magic in taking the leftovers, the scraps and the ends and turning them, through long simmering, into a wonderful elixer of health and flavor. This can be a hard, hard time of the year especially if we are disconnected from our community and support. Using ancient and wise techniques like fasting, sharing or making bone soup reminds us that we do have the resources to nourish ourselves and each other, even when it looks like all we have is a picked over plate.

How do you nourish yourself and your community during this dark time of late winter? Do you make stock at your house or have any memories of a lovingly made soup? What other recipes do you like for turning leftovers and left-behinds into loving nourishment? Do you prefer tom yum or french onion soup?

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Full Fasting Moon 2009: Full Moon in the Fasting Moon

Full Fasting Moon 2010: The Old Man Who Made the Trees Blossom

Full Fasting Moon 2011: Of Peacocks, Pride and Park Rangers

I also discuss the Fasting moon energies The Fasting Moon is New post and in the The Positive Feedback Loop of Love post.

Check the recipes and soup tags for more posts with yummy food.

Magic

2012-02-11T21:13:00.000-08:00

February First

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If you are a dreamer, come in,

If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,

A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer...

If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire

For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.

Come in!

It is that time of year again, the subtley sparkley days in late winter when the first hints of spring start showing themselves. The days are getting longer a couple minutes at a time and some very adventurous plants are even starting to sprout or bud. There's a bit of a pinkish and greenish tinge to the world, rather than just January grey.

Aurora Borealis in Alaska by well_lucio

The holy day marking this point in the wheel of the year is is February First, also known as Brigid, or Candlemas, Imbolc or Groundhog Day. Brigid was a goddess in Ireland before she became the Christian saint and in both (or all?) of her aspects she is the patron of blacksmithing, weaving, healing, poetry and prophecy. At first, these seem like a strange jumble of things and activities to preside over, but a second look shows something in common - these are all elements of magic. Prophecy and poetry are the magic of turning words from nonsense into meaning, healing is the magic of turning illness into health and weaving and blacksmithing are the magic of turning raw materials into useful objects. In a pre industrial world, blacksmithing was just as much magic as healing and both were at least as important as prophecy.

But I don't live in a pre industrial world. In fact, I live in a post industrial, post modernist, 21st century world where even the word magic is a bit dirty, provincial or naive. Materialists insist that everything that happens has a material cause. Perhaps things look magical, but we just havent' seen the cause. Christians know that something non-material can be a cause of material things, but they dismiss magic as either occult or prideful. Dabbling in magic either puts you in league with the devil or full of pride, thinking that you can do something beyond or outside of god's will. I am not a materialist, or a Christian, though, and so I wonder... what do I think about magic?

As you know, I'm a fan of young adult fantasy and other science fiction. Last week I read the first four books in the The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel series, one of those "regular kids get sucked into a world where everything they believed to be true is wrong... and have adventures!" kind of books. In these stories, gods and

Aurora Borealis in Norway by Tor Even Mathiesen

mythological characters are real, some people can become immortal and even more people can awaken to their true abilities and powers, becoming magical. Characters learn magic in all kinds of ways, but the end results are usually of the spectacular, laws-of-physics-do-not-apply-here kind. At one point, the children call the water out of the earth, causing a muddy pool to swallow a particularly scary monster, and in another scene someone tracks people across Paris by the trail their aura leaves behind. At other times, characters cast spells by putting certain runes or symbols in certain patterns, or by combining special potions or words.

I don't really use magic like that. I don't say I don't ever, because, well, sometimes I say a special ritual phrase or choose symbols, images or colors for specific meanings both in my daily life and in my "religious" life of my nature table, bedroom altar or other special events or objects. I certainly played around with these kinds of magical correspondences, rituals and spells as I explored earth based religion in my 20s but have really never gotten deep into working magic. As I developed a much more panentheistic sense of the divine (that god is both omnipresent in the physical universe and also exists beyond it, as opposed to the theism of Christianity of the polytheism of many Pagan theologies) I have really moved away from these kinds of symbolic gestures. A few remain - I have a charm in my car and say a special verse while rubbing it for luck and safety - but the Quaker sensibilities of both being wary

Aurora Australis from the International Space Station

of outward symbols and of trusting god in all things, have really taken over my spiritual life.

But I do know that I have power in this world. I do know that I can make things happen the way I want them to happen and that words and symbols have great, great power. Am I rejecting this knowledge by rejecting magik the way it is practiced by wiccans and some other Pagans? Is it the power of prayer and god's omnipotent will that makes these unexplained, magical seeming things happen? I do not believe in a purely material universe, so why not work with the web of energy that I know connects us? Sometimes I think that the answer to that question is a humble one of not being willing to take on that kind of power, and sometimes I think I am ducking a potential responsibility.

Ultimately, the query I am sitting with in regards to magic is this, an adaptation of a query my pastor asked recently; to what extent do we create magic and to what extent do we merely uncover the magic that already exists? But then again, this is the query I sit with about god in general. What is the answer to life, the universe, and everything? :)

What does magic mean to you? Have you ever worked magic with spells or magical objects? Do you believe that we have a supernatural influence on the workings of the world through our own work or through petition to a diety? Or do you think this is all a bunch of codwollop? Have you ever experienced anything magical?

Magic

Sandra’s seen a leprechaun,

Eddie touched a troll,

Laurie danced with witches once,

Charlie found some goblins gold.

Donald heard a mermaid sing,

Susy spied an elf,

But all the magic I have known

I've had to make myself.

If you didn't know... both poems are from Shel Silverstein in Where the Sidewalk Ends. The photos are of aurora, one of the more blatently magical things I can think of. Click the links below the pictures to be taken to the photographers' Flickr pages and see more of their phenomenal work.

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February First 2009: February the First

February First 2010: Lovely Luz and Sweet Bridgit This happens to be my all time favorite post from all two plus years of blogging. Please go check it out.

Feburary First 2011: Brigid - The Goddess of Poetry

February First 2012: Brigid's Red Soup

Brigid's Red Soup

2012-02-08T08:27:00.000-08:00

February First

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Hello everyone,

I know I owe you two posts, a February First post and a full Fasting Moon post. I have great posts ready to go. I just have to write them. Unfortunately, writing blog posts has fallen to the bottom of my very long to-do list just below taking a shower, cleaning the kitchen or getting an oil change but well below writing lesson plans, showing up for middle school every day and designing an action research project. Oy vey!

But today I can give you a little tidbit, the recipe for this year's Brigid's Red Soup. I have made a red lentil soup with red, orange and yellow ingredients in the first week of February for about five years now. Red is a sacred color to Brigid, the color of transforming birth and the color of transforming fire. This year's soup was super

Michael W. May's Red Lentil Soup

easy and particularly delicious, if I do say so myself. Feel free to change it anyway you would like by adding more vegetables, changing the seasoning or switching things up as your tastes desire. This soup is between you and the Goddess, after all.

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Crock Pot Brigid's Red Soup

1/2 yellow onion, chopped

3 golden beets, peeled and chopped

2 carrots, washed and chopped

1 parsnip, washed and chopped

3 garlic cloves, peeled and coarsely chopped

1 1/2 cups red lentils

1 14.5 oz can of Muir Glen fire roasted tomatoes, diced or crushed (or other tomatoes)

2 cups chicken broth (or more)

2 tsp curry powder

1 tsp seasoned salt

1 tsp chile flakes

1/2 tsp garlic powder

1 bay leaf

Water to cover

Put the vegetables, lentils, spices, tomatoes and chicken broth in a crock pot and add enough water to cover the ingredients by at least an inch. Cook on low for 9 hours or more, until the lentils are completely soft and the vegetables are cooked through. Serve with sour cream or yogurt, sauerkraut or the garnish(es) of your choice. Praise the Goddess, and bless the spring!

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February First 2009: February the First

February First 2010: Lovely Luz and Sweet Bridgit This happens to be my all time favorite post from all two plus years of blogging. Please go check it out.

Feburary First 2011: Brigid - The Goddess of Poetry

Year of the Dragon

2012-01-25T22:54:00.000-08:00

New Fasting Moon

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I am the unquenchable Fire,
  The center of all energy,
  The stout heroic heart.
  I am truth and light,
  I hold power and glory in my sway.
  My presence
  Disperses dark clouds
  To tame the Fates.

I am the Dragon.

Year of the Dragon

Gung Hay Fat Choy! January 23 is the new Fasting Moon in Annette Hinshaw's calendar and the first day of the lunar new year, a huge celebration all over Asia. The festival is called Tet Nguyen Dan in Vietnam, Chaul Chnam Thmey in Cambodia and Chun Jie, or the Spring Festival, in Chinese speaking communities. When I was a little kid in San Francisco Chinese New Year was almost as big of a holiday at my elementary school as Thanksgiving or Spring Break. We made red envelopes to fill with chocolate coins and watched lion dancers at school and parades in Chinatown.

Every year in the Chinese calendar is ruled by an animal, creating the Chinese zodiac. The year 4710, or 2012 in the Gregorian calendar, is a Year of the Dragon, a headstrong, charismatic, and enthusiastic animal who's luck just never stops. Dragon is known for being a free spirited doer who always wins people's admiration and never accepts defeat. Though my theme for 2012 is Grabbing the Tiger By the Tail, the Chinese Dragon is a perfect poster child for the kind of year I want to have. Bright, buoyant, active and adventurous. There is a caution, though, with Dragon because they can tend towards being a bit brash, abrasive or prone to power-over dynamics. I am liable to fall into these patterns myself so I will be calling on the Water Dragon, this year's elemental dragon, to help me remain more open minded, to see other people's points of view and weigh all the options before rushing into action. Martin Luther King, Jr., Woodrow Wilson and John Lennon were all born in the Year of the Dragon. I wonder what will be born this year?

Dragon and Mandarins

Food plays a central role in the celebration of the Chinese New Year and there is much symbolism on the banquet table. Oranges and tangerines are given as gifts and eaten at meals both because they are so deliciously in season this time of year, but also because their names sound like the words for luck and gold in Chinese. Whole fish are often served to represent the beginning and end of a lucky year and sweets of various kinds bring a sweetness to the year. The local Asian newspaper here in Portland printed the following recipe and I hope to try it sometime this season. Long beans or long noodles represent long life and lobster represents the dragon of the zodiac. Shrimp or chicken can be substituted for the lobster, or combined with the dragon of the sea. Combining lobster and chicken is another traditional food, symbolizing the lucky union of the dragon and the phoenix.

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Dragon Beans

1 tbs oil (vegetable, peanut, or lard)

1/4 tsp Sichuan peppercorns, crushed

1/2 tsp Chinese five-spice powder

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 1/2 pounds Chinese long beans (also called yard long beans, string beans can be used)

1/2 cup water

1/4 cup oyster sauce

1 tbs soy sauce

1 tbs toasted sesame oil

splash of Sriracha sauce

7 oz cooked lobster meat, chopped (substitute/combine shrimp or chicken)

1 tbs toasted sesame seeds

In a wok or deep skillet over medium-high, heat the vegetable oil. Add the peppercorns, five spice powder, and garlic. Heat, stirring constantly for 30 seconds.

Add the beans and toss to coat. Add the water, oyster sauce, and soy sauce and cover. Allow the beans to stem for five minutes, or until just tender. Add the sesame oil, Sriracha, lobster meat, and sesame seeds. Toss together and cook until just heated through. Serve immediately.

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Lion Dance

How are you celebrating this ancient and global festival? Do you have family or community traditions around the Chinese New Year or is all of this new to you? What foods bring good luck and wealth in your home? How is the dragon going manifest its optimistic, exuberant and charming energies into your life this year?

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New Fasting Moon 2009: The Fasting Moon is New and New Fasting Moon Photo

New Fasting Moon 2010: Spring is Springing

New Fasting Moon 2011: The Nian

This post is about Chinese New Year, which I mention in the Full Fasting Moon 2009 post and The Nian.

Playing Games

2012-01-18T21:53:00.000-08:00

Milk Moon

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Thelow winter sun streams through the Douglas fir and cedar branches along theWildwood Trail. The trail winds along a contour line out in the deep woodedheart of the park and I am alone. Well, almost alone. Around a bend in thetrail my comes my dog, running full out, her ears flapping and mud flying outbehind her. She skids to a halt in front of me, her doggy face practically grinningas she hops up to touch my hand with her nose, spins and darts off up thetrail. I can’t help but laugh.

Tumalo

Ilaugh out loud, my voice muffled by the ferns and fir tree foliage all aroundme. I laugh at her silly antics and goofy ways. She’s not a clown of a dog, buther little hop, flapping ears and flying leaps make me crow with laughter. Igiggle uncontrollably at her yipping and yowling in her sleep. Is she dreamingabout giant squirrels or flying tennis balls? Goddess only knows what goes onin the mind of a dog.

Mylaugh softens into a chuckle and a grin as I catch sight of a flock ofchickadees tumbling their way through a stand of cedar and hemlock trees. Thesheer joy she gets out of living her dog life makes me laugh, too. She is neverself-conscious about her pleasure at a smelly fence post, at a sunny spot inthe lawn or a good chase. She is never anything but herself, withoutreservation or apology. The chickadees come closer, chipping and chirping ateach other, completely oblivious of my presence. They, too, are fully presentin their lives, not worrying or pretending. They simply are. One flits from onebranch to another, doing a somersault over the new perch, hangs upside down anddigs in the needles for bugs. I can’t help but grin.

Me ant Tummy

Iheard an interview with Brother Guy Consolmagno, a Jesuit priest andastronomer, recently in which he tells a story about his mother. When he wasabout 9 years old she played cards with him one rainy Saturday afternoon. Theyplayed for hours and she let him win more often than not. Of course, she couldhave beat him every hand but that wasn’t the point. Playing the game was a wayfor her to say she loved him and Brother Guy sees exploring God’s createduniverse as a similar game. He is an astronomer and a mathematician so supernovas and equations explaining planetary orbits are the game God plays with himto show his love.

Iam a naturalist and a dog person so God plays a slightly different game withme. She shows me how to stop worrying and just be through a muddy Labrador. Sheshows me how she cares for every being through a flock of chickadees. She showsme that she will light my way with a big bright moon rising over the mountainas I drive home. She shows me that she loves me by making me laugh.

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I wrote this for my Quaker Meeting's journal, Minding the Light. The querie this season was "When has god made you laugh?" I think this story about my dog, about chickadees and about the games God plays with us fits well with the theme of the Milk Moon. This is a time when the light of the Sun Son is new and feeble, but growing stronger each day. The Goddess watches over that growing light, protecting it, loving it, giving it what it needs to become the Light of The World as the summer waxes. I think she is doing that for all of us, giving us exactly what we need exactly when we need it... be that a muddy dog, a giant full moon or another dark, rainy night.

You can read past issues of Minding the Light online here. My previous posts written for the journal can be seen by checking out all the posts tagged Minding the Light.

Grabbing the Tiger by the Tail

2012-01-12T15:06:00.000-08:00

Full Milk Moon

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Welcometo the first full moon of 2012, the Milk Moon. Happy New Year! Did you have awonderful holiday weekend, full of friends, parties and maybe a few morethoughtful moments? Have you been savoring the darkness of this time of year,incubating plans for the coming season of light? Or have you been trying todrown out the dark with lights and liquor, food, parties and go go go, fun funfun? Yeah, I've been doing some of both, too.

Lastyear at about this time, I looked over the year before, did some gwishing and came up with a theme for 2011: Building a Better Teacher. As I look back onthis last year I see how that theme really filled out the year. I reallyenjoyed my coursework, did a lot of processing with the deeper themes ofequity, child development and how our public schools work, and actually spentsome time in a public school classroom. I

Winter Sky

feel like so much of the rest of whatI did this year helped me build a better teacher, too. The play and poetry Iengaged in during the spring and summer, my trip to visit my family in SouthernCalifornia, working through all the hard stuff and then more hard stuff andevery bit of reading and writing I did this year all helped me become a stronger,clearer person and more ready to be a friend, mentor and leader toteenagers.

Thedays between Christmas and Epiphany are considered the 12 Days of Christmas andthere are many esoteric beliefs and traditions associated with these darknights. Some people believe that the weather of the twelve days associates withthe weather of the corresponding months in the upcoming year, and others usethat correspondence to do meditation or planning for those months. Other peopleuse the 12 nights to focus on the upcoming year in a more general way, on theirown spirituality or on inner work they might want to work on in the comingyear. No matter what, it is a time of sinking into the deep dark, bringing themagic of the Christmas rebirth into the new year and getting ready for theEpiphany, the lighting up and insight, that can come if you are ready for it. Ispent some of the 12 days, and some before and after, pondering about thisupcoming year, 2012.

AsI worked through what I want 2012 to look like and listened intently to whatthe Universe was hinting at, I used some old techniques and some new. I read myFairy Tale Tarot deck and looked at Sabian Symbols. I prayed in Meeting and inmy car. I listened to the conversations I had with my friends and examined whatstories were really speaking to me during this time. I brainstormed qualities and imagined scenes from the year. It took a lot of ponderingand meditating and thinking, but finally… I am ready to unveil 2012.

Grabbingthe Tiger By the Tail

2012will be a year of saying yes to adventure, of facing the fearsome, of justdoing it, no matter what "it" is.
2012will look ballsy and awesome, effortless and amazing! Sometimes it will look as challenging as it feels, but it will always look real.
2012will feel exciting and terrifying, hard but do-able, good like a hard work out or a tricky puzzle.
2012will be bright orange and zebra striped. It will smell like cinnamon and snow.It will sound like big bells, the crack of a bat and the roar of a crowd, itwill sound like the Rocky Theme song (being played by a Hawaiian marching band... which will follow me everywhere this year. Get ready).

2012is going to be full of adventures. I am student teaching at a middle school, lookingfor a job in the spring and summer and good Lord willin’ start as a classroomteacher in the fall. I might have to move and will definitely be meeting newpeople all along the way. I have no idea what adventures this

The Tiger's Stripes

summer holds forme, in fact, I don’t even know where June rent is coming from. I am going to needto step up to the plate this year and grab each tiger by the tail as it comesmy way or I might miss an opportunity, either material or otherwise as theyzoom by.

Thereare other kinds of tigers lurking in 2012, though, too. The story that I sharedwith you earlier in the month is a story about a man who runs from a tiger thatis more about emotions than about the material world. Stefano is terrified ofthe columber and spends his whole life running, ending up a sad and lonely man.Almost immediately after my motto for the year came to me I had a situationwhere I realized that I was running from a columber. Something was scary toadmit, hard to feel and I ran away from it through blame and anger. As hard asGrabbing the Tiger of jobs and teaching By the Tail might be, turning to Facethe Columber is even harder.

Overthe last year I’ve been thinking a lot about courage. Courage is notnecessarily not feeling afraid of what you are facing, but it is workingthrough that fear and doing something anyway. The last time I really examinedcourage, I realized that it is the root of all other virtues. To be generous,or loving, or loyal, kind or grateful all require facing fear of being laughedat, or rejected or judged and acting anyway. This year, I will need to draw onall of my courage to Grab the Tiger and Face the

By Don Kenn

Columber. The MissionStatement I wrote a couple years ago declares that I am an ambassador of theUniversal Divine and ambassadors are always under the protection of those whosend them. I have the full backing of god in my work, and I have nothing tofear.

“My life, glowing with integrity, shines a bright light out into theworld. I am filled with the light of god and others around me see it andrespond.”

What does 2012 have in store for you? Did you do somegwishing or dream decreeing during the 12 days of Christmas or at some othertime this winter? What is your motto for the upcoming year, what is your yeargoing to look like or smell like? Do you have a story about gathering yourcourage and Grabbing a Tiger by the Tail or Facing a Columber? Happy New Year!

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Full Milk Moon 2009: Nourishing Self As Well As Others

Full Milk Moon 2010: The Full Wolf Moon

Full Milk Moon 2011: The Positive Feedback Loop of Love

Full Milk Moon 2012: The Columber

This post is about new years, a topic I discussed in the posts The Quaker Year, New Year and New Milk Moon.

The Columber

2012-01-03T13:23:00.000-08:00

Full Milk Moon

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The Colomber

Dino Buzzati, translated by Lawrence Venuti

When Stefano Roi was twelve years old, he asked his father, a sea captain and the owner of a fine sailing ship, to take him on board as his birthday gift.

     “When I grow up,” the boy said, “I want to go to sea with you. And I shall command ships even more beautiful and bigger than yours.”
     “God bless you, my son,” the father answered. And since his vessel had to leave that very day, he took the boy with him.
     It was a splendid sunny day, and the sea was calm. Stefano, who had never been on a ship, happily wandered around on deck, admiring the complicated maneuvers of the sails. He asked the sailors about this and that, and they gladly explained everything to him.

    When the boy had gone astern, he stopped, his curiosity aroused, to observe something that intermittently rose to the surface at a distance of two to three hundred meters, in line with the ship’s wake.
     Although the ship was indeed moving fast, carried by a great quarter wind, that thing always maintained the same distance. And though the boy did not make out what it was, there was some indefinable air about it, which attracted him intensely.
     No longer seeing Stefano on deck, the father came down from the bridge, after having shouted his name in vain, and went to look for him.
     “Stefano, what are you doing there, standing so still?” the captain asked his son, finally perceiving him on the stern as he stared at the waves.
     “Papa, come here and see.”
     The father came, and he too looked in the direction indicated by the boy, but he could not see anything.
     “There’s a dark thing that rises in the wake every so often,” Stefano said, “and it follows behind us.”
     “Despite my forty years,” said the father, “I believe I still have good eyesight. But I see absolutely nothing.”
     And the boy insisted, the father went to get a telescope, and he scrutinized the surface of the sea, in line with the wake. Stefano saw him turn pale.

     “What is it? Why do you make that face?”
     “Oh, I wish I had never listened to you,” the captain exclaimed. “Now I’m worried about
you. What you see rising from the water and following us is not some object. That is a colomber. It’s the fish that sailors fear above all others, in every sea in the world. It is a
tremendous mysterious shark, more clever than man. For reasons that perhaps no one will ever know, it chooses its victim, and when it has chosen, it pursues him for years and years, for his entire life, until it has succeeded in devouring him. And the strange this is this: No one can see the colomber except the victim himself and his blood relations.”
     “It’s not a story?”
     “No. I have never seen it. But from descriptions I have heard many times, I immediately
recognized it. That bison like muzzle, that mouth continually opening an closing, those terrible teeth. Stefano, there’s no doubt, the colomber has ominously chosen you, and as long as you go to sea, it will give you no peace. Listen to me: We are going back to land now, immediately; you will go ashore and never leave it again, not for any reason whatsoever. You must promise me you won’t. Seafaring is not for you, my son. You must resign yourself. After all, you will be able to make your fortune on land too.”
     Having said this, he immediate reversed his course, reentered the port, and on the pretext of a sudden illness, he put his son ashore. Then he left again without him.
     Deeply troubled, the boy remained on the shore until the last tip of the masts sank behind the horizon. Beyond the pier that bounded the port, the seas was completely deserted. But looking carefully, Stefano could perceive a small black point which intermittently surfaced on the water: it was “his” colomber, slowly moving back and forth, obstinately waiting for him.

     From then on, with every expedient the boy was dissuaded from his desire to go to sea. His father sent him to study at an inland city, hundreds of kilometers away. And for some time, distracted by his new surroundings, Stefano no longer thought about the sea monster. Still, he returned home for summer vacations, and the first thing he did, as soon as he had some free time, was hurry to the end of the pier for a kind of verification, although he fundamentally considered it unnecessary. After so many years, even supposing that all the stories his father told him were true, the colomber had certainly given up its siege.
     But Stefano stood there, astonished, his heart pounding. At a distance of two to three hundred meters from the pier, in the open sea, the sinister fish was moving back and forth, slowly, raising its muzzle from the water every now and then and turning toward land, as it anxiously watched for whether Stefano was coming at last.
     So the idea of that hostile creature waiting for him day and night became a secret obsession for Stefano. And even in the distant city it cropped up to wake him with worry in the middle of the night. He was safe, of course; hundreds of kilometers separated him from the colomber. And yet he knew that beyond the mountains, beyond the forests and the plains, the shark was waiting for him. He might have moved even to the most remote continent, and still the would have appeared in the mirror of the nearest sea, with the inexorable obstinacy of a fatal instrument.
     Stefano, who was a serious and eager boy, profitably continued his studies, and as soon as he was a man, he found a dignified and well-paying position at a store in the inland city. Meanwhile, his father died through illness, his magnificent ship was sold by his widow, and his son found himself the heir to a modest fortune. Work, friends, diversions, first love affairs- Stefano’s life was not well under way, but the thought of the colomber nonetheless tormented him like a mirage that was fatal and fascinating at the same time; and as the days passed, rather than disappear, it seemed to become more insistent.

     Great are the satisfactions of an industrious, well-to-do, and quiet life, but greater still is the attraction of the abyss. Stefano was hardly twenty-two years old when, having said goodbye to his inland friends and resigned from his job, he returned to his native city and told his mother of his firm intention to follow his father’s trade. The woman, to whom Stefano had never mentioned the mysterious shark, joyfully welcomed his decision. To have her son abandon the sea for the city had always seemed to her, in her heart, a betrayal of the family’s tradition.
     Stefano began to sail, giving proof of his sea-worthiness, his resistance to fatigue, and his
intrepid spirit. He sailed and sailed, and in the wake of his ship, day and night, in good weather and in storms, the colomber trudged along. He knew that this was his curse and his penalty, and precisely for this reason, perhaps, he did not find the strength to sever himself from it. And no one on board, except him, perceived the monster.
     “Don’t you see anything over there?” he asked his companions from time to time, pointing at the wake.
     “No, we don’t see anything at all. Why?”
     “I don’t know. It seemed to me…”
     “You didn’t see a colomber, by any chance, did you?” the sailors asked, laughing and
touching wood.
     “Why are you laughing? Why are you touching wood?”
     “Because the colomber is an animal that spares no one. And if it has begun to follow this
ship, it means that one of us is doomed.”
     But Stefano did not slacken. The uninterrupted threat that followed on his heels seemed in fact to strengthen his will, his passion for the sea, his courage in times of strife and danger.
When he felt that he was master of his trade, he used his modest patrimony to acquire a small steam freighter with a partner; then he became the sole proprietor of it, and thanks to a series of successful shipments, he could subsequently buy a true merchantman, setting out with always more-ambitious aims. But the successes, and the millions, were unable to remove that continual torment from his soul; nor did he ever try, on the other hand, to sell the ship and retire to undertake different enterprises on land.
     To sail and sail was his only thought. Just as soon as he set foot on land in some port after a long journey, the impatience to depart again immediately pricked him. He knew that outside the colomber was waiting for him and that the colomber was synonymous with ruin. With nothingness. An indomitable impulse dragged him without rest, from one ocean to another.

Until one day, Stefano suddenly realized that he had grown old, very old; and no one around him could explain why, rich as he was, he did not finally leave the cursed life of the sea. He was old, and bitterly unhappy, because his entire existence had been spent in that mad flight across the seas, to escape his enemy. But the temptation of the abyss had always been greater for him than the joys of a prosperous and quiet life.

     One evening, while his magnificent ship was anchored offshore at the port where he was born, he felt close to death. He then called his second officer, in whom he had great trust, and ordered him not to oppose what he was about to do. The other man promised, on his honor.
     Having gotten this assurance, Stefano revealed to the second officer the story of the colomber that had continued to pursue him uselessly for nearly fifty years. The officer listened to him, frightened.
     “It has escorted me from one end of the world to the other,” Stefano said, “with a faithfulness that not even the noblest friend could have shown. Now I am about to die. The colomber too will be terribly old and weary by now. I cannot betray it.”
     Having said this, he took his leave of the crew, ordered a small boat to be lowered into the sea, and boarded it, after he made them give him a harpoon.
     “Now I am going to meet it,” he announced. “It isn’t right to disappoint it. But I shall
struggle, with all my might.”
     With a few weary strokes of the oars, he drew away from the side of the ship. Officers and
sailors saw him disappear down below, on the placid sea, shrouded in the nocturnal shadows. In the sky was a crescent moon.
     He did not have to work very hard. Suddenly the colomber’s horrible snout emerged at the side of the boat.
     “Here I am with you, finally,” Stefano said. “Now it’s just the two of us.” And gathering his
remaining strength, he raised the harpoon to strike.
     “Uh,” the colomber groaned, imploringly, “what a long journey it’s taken to find you. I too
am wasted with fatigue. How much you made me swim. And you kept on fleeing. You never
understood at all.”
     “What?” asked Stefano, with the point of his harpoon over the colomber’s heart.
     “I have not pursued you around the world to devour you, as you thought. I was charged by the King of the Sea only to deliver this to you.”
     And the shark stuck out its tongue, offering the old captain a small phosphorescent
sphere. Stefano picked it up and examined it. It was a pearl of unusual size. And he recognized it as the famous Perla del Mare, which brought luck, power, love, and peace of mind to whoever possessed it. But now it was too late.
     “Alas!” said the captain, shaking his head sadly. “How wrong it all is. I managed to
condemn myself, and I have ruined your life.”
     “Goodbye, poor man,” answered the colomber. And it sank into the black waters forever.

Two month later, pushed by an undertow, a small boat came alongside an abrupt reef. It was sighted by several fisherman, who drew near, curious. In the boat, still seated, was a sunbleached skeleton: between the little bones of its fingers it grasped a small round stone.
The colomber is a huge fish, frightening to behold and extremely rare. Depending on the sea and the people who live by its shores, the fish is also called the kolombrey, kahloubrha, kalonga, kalu-balu, chalunggra. Naturalists strangely ignore it. Some even maintain that is does not exist.

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I first read this story in the journal Parabola: Myth and the Quest for Meaning. I found their May 1983 edition in a library and the story sang when I read it. I found it a number of places online (like here, here and here). The images are Gustav Dore prints done in 1876 to illustrate Coleridge's epic The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. I found them at this site, where you can purchase them, if you are into that sort of thing. I clearly don't own any of these pieces of art, and am clearly not making any money off reposting them here.

I will post more about my thoughts on this story soon. I promise.

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Full Milk Moon 2009: Nourishing Self As Well As Others

Full Milk Moon 2010: The Full Wolf Moon

Full Milk Moon 2011: The Positive Feedback Loop of Love

Wolves at the Gate

2011-12-29T14:35:00.000-08:00

New Milk Moon

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“Lose the bobcat?” she asked him.

“No, lost you. For a while.”

“Not for long, I see.”

He was wearing his hat again, withthe brim pulled low. She found it harder to read his eyes. “You weren’t afterthat cat today,” he accused. “That trail’s a few days old.”

“That’s right.”

“I’d like to know what it is you’retracking.”

“You’re a man that can’t hold hishorses, aren’t you?”

He smiled. Tantalizing. “What’syour game, lady?”

“Coyotes.”

His eyes widened, only for a secondand a half. She could swear his pupils dilated. She bit her lower lip, havingmeant to give away nothing. She’d forgotten how to talk with people, it seemed– how to sidestep a question and hide what was necessary.

“And bobcats, and bear, and fox,”she piled on quickly, to bury the coyotes. “Everything that’s here. Butespecially the carnivores.”

She shifted, waiting, feeling hertoes inside her boots. Wasn’t he supposed to say something after she finished?When he didn’t, she suggested, “I guess you were looking for deer the otherday?”

He gave a small shrug. Deer seasonwas many months over and gone. He wasn’t going to be trapped by a lady wildliferanger with a badge. “Why the carnivores, especially?” he asked.

“No reason.”

“I see. You’re just partial.There’s birdwatchers, and butterfly collectors and there’s gals like you thatlike to watch meat eaters.”

He might have known this one thingcould draw her talk to the surface: an outsider’s condescension. “They’re thetop of the food chain, that’s the reason,” she said coldly. “If they are good,then their prey is good, and its food is good. If not, then something’s missingfrom the chain.”

“Oh yeah?”

By Jerolek

“Yeah. Keeping tabs on thepredators tells you what you need to know about the herbivores, likedeer, and the vegetation, the detritovores, the insect populations, smallpredators like shrews and voles. All of it.”

He studied her with a confusion sherecognized. She was well accustomed to watching Yankee brains grind theirgears, attempting to reconcile a hillbilly accent with signs of a seriouseducation. He asked finally “And what you need to know about the shrews andvoles would be what, exactly?”

“Voles matter more than you think.Beetles, worms. I guess to hunters these woods seem like a zoo, but who feedsthe animals and cleans up the cage, do you think? Without worms and termitesyou’d be up to your hat brim in dead tree branches looking for a clear shot.”

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The new moon this month is the new Milk Moon in Annette Hinshaw's calendar and the new Wolf Moon in Jessica Prentice's.It is the dark of winter, the testing place of the wisdom and support wegathered over the last summer both physically as well as emotionally andspiritually. Did the fields and herds provide enough food for us this year? Didwe store enough food to last the winter? Do we have the friend and kin supportto get us through the dark times?

Humans are like other large animalstop predators in that we require huge amounts of land to support our needs.Each one of us requires entire armies of farmers and ranchers, crop plants andlivestock animals, food packagers, butchers and cooks to meet our food needs. Estimatesof how much land a human needs to meet their food needs range from 1/5 of anacre to over 10 square miles, depending on the climate and intensity ofagriculture, but no matter what, we are resource intensive creatures. In thelast 50 years agriculture in the western world has changed drastically with theinput of petroleum fuel and chemical fertilizers, reducing some of the humanlabor required to feed our growing population that now tops 7 billion souls.Unfortunately, this oil based food system is not sustainable in the long term.Unlike natural ecosystems, it both requires an in put that is not renewable and

By Ricky NJ

it also produces waste that is not useable by the system. In fact, the wasteand destruction caused by our modern agribusiness practices makes the entireecosystem unhealthy for both humans and many other animal and plant species.

Wolves and other large carnivoreswere some of the first species to feel the effects of western civilization aswe developed the technology to take the land we needed for our agriculture.Wolves were hunted virtually to extinction in Europe and North America as industrial agriculture grew and by the middle of the 20^th century there wereonly remnant populations in the far reaches of their former range. Theenvironmental movement of the last 40 years has changed the way both the publicand the government views wolves, however, and in the 1990s there was a programto reintroduce wolves to the northern Rocky Mountain areas of Idaho andWyoming. By 2004 the original couple dozen wolves relocated from Alberta,Canada to central Idaho had expanded to over 450 animals and some of those weremaking their way across the Snake River into Oregon. Nearly sixty years afterthe last wolf bounty was paid in Oregon, the fish and wildlife departmentconfirmed two pups born to the small Imnaha pack, the first in the state. Sixmore pups were confirmed in the 2009 breeding season and there are two otherpacks now roam the wilderness of north eastern Oregon.

This autumn big news broke when ayoung wolf left his home pack and started heading west across Oregon. ByDecember OR 7, as he is known, had traveled over 700 miles and set up camp inthe heavily forested land between Medford, OR and Crater Lake. OR 7 is a bit ofa celebrity these days and his journey, and the notoriety it is getting, isstirring up the rural/urban, rancher/conservationist divide over thereintroduction of wolves to Western States. Like Eddie Bondo, the Wyomingrancher and hunter in Barbara Kingsolver’s Prodigal Summer which I excerptedabove, many people in rural Oregon view wolves as threats to their livelihood. Theirony, of course, is that wolves returning to their mountains are in directopposition to the real threat to their livlihoods.

By Fremlin

In Kingsolver’s beautiful novel,Eddie learns from the forest ranger Deanna about how important large carnivoresare to the entire ecosystem they live in. Yes, large carnivores kill young andweak livestock, but another character in the novel notes that there are 10other ways she might be responsible for the death of her animals. In fact, theland that supports a healthy population of carnivores can support a larger andhealthier population of grazing animals. Even crop farmers benefit from thehealthy ecosystems that support wolves, coyotes, bobcats and cougars. Thoseecosystems provide clean water, balanced insect populations and habitat for pestrodents to live in so they are less likely to harass stored grains. Turns out,healthy ecosystems make for healthy farms, which in turn allow all people tolive healthier lives.

I think one of the hardest thingsto wrap my city born brain around is just how detrimental our culture is toboth wild things and to our own lifestyles. Our current practices of mining theearth’s resources are simply not sustainable – and I don’t mean that in thegreen washed way that Whole Foods or American Apparel mean it. I mean really,really for real, there is not going to be enough food, clean water, breatheableair or fertile soil to support the human population. We are filling our housewith garbage and toxic waste, eating everything out of the fridge and refusingto see that things can’t go on like this.

The struggle for me, anenvironmentalist who cares about food issues and wildlife issues and reallyknows all about this stuff, is what to do on a daily basis. How do I makechanges in my life that make it more sustainable, without abandoningcivilization and living off dumpster diving and walking everywhere? I currentlylive a life that requires a car, and electricity and buying food at the grocerystore. How do I take steps towards a life that this earth can actually support?Jessica Prentice quotes Martin Prechtel, the author of the book The Party’sOver, as he talks about the big, mechanized slug of a culture of progress. This“culture crushing mentality” has left behind a homogonized, lifelesscivilization of freeways, big box stores and franchise restaurants. My sisterwent to India and her traveling partner insisted on eating McDonalds and KFC.It is mind boggling that you even can eat that food

By Eoin C

so far away from theAmerican heartland where it was invented! How do I fight this overwhelming slugwithout being a total outsider to my culture and community?

Prentice and Prechtel leave us witha simple, yet profoundly life shifting call to action; to recreate theinterpersonal relationships found in our ancestral villages. Not to rejectmodern civilization (I do truly believe that appropriate technology will beprofoundly useful in creating a sustainable culture) but building the humancommunity within our civilization that makes life meaningful, valuable andworth honoring. In terms of food, this community is built through becoming aproducer as well as a consumer, and trading with other individual producers.Buying eggs from a neighbor or local farmer, shopping for vegetables at the farmer’smarket where you can shake the hand of the woman who grew your cauliflower,trading your dried oregano and wild harvested nettles for your neighbors applesor lettuce. These things allow us to see each other as valuable individuals,not just cogs in the wheel or obstacles on the way to our own fulfillment.

By Wiz411

We can create these webs ofrelationship in ways that don’t invovle food, too. Taking the bus or walking allowsus to really see our neighbors (and sometimes hear them, and smell them butthat’s how we know they are real people). My group of friends is great athaving the kinds of parties that allow us to build relationships, likeChristmas lights viewing or cheese and wine parties or trips to the pumpkinpatch. My church, like so many other places of worship, is another bastion ofcommunity relationships. When I was having such a dark time this last fall Irealized that the culture of my church community involved explicitly being openwith our needs and equally explicit with our ability to help each other boththrough encouragement and physical or material assistance. I learned that I hadto be equally explicit with my non-church friends and once I did my needs weremet quickly and lovingly.

The wolf is at the gate, this timeof year. The days are dark and we are lonely, both in our daily lives and inour cultural life. Wolves show us how interconnected we all are and howimportant strengthening and honoring those connections really is. How connecteddo you feel these days, to your friends and family, your community and yourlarger ecosystem home? How do these connections nourish you, ground you orleave you feeling confined? Who do you like to buy your food from or share yourfood with? Do you have any wolf, coyote or other large predator sightingstories to share?

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New Milk Moon 2009: New Milk Moon

New Milk Moon 2010: Forty Two with a Seventy Percent Chance of Rain

New Milk Moon 2011: The Quaker Year

My full Milk Moon post in January of 2010 is also about the Wolf Moon, and retells the wonderful story of St. Francis and the wolf of Gubbio.

It is Christmas

2011-12-28T21:52:00.000-08:00

Winter Solstice

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It's Christmas time again! They claim it is the most wonderfultime of the year, and in some ways I am apt to believe them. The month ofDecember is full of a heady mix of memories of childhood Christmas wonders, ofcomforting

White Christmas

rituals of sweets, songs and good cheer and the palpable divinemystery that both the Christian Christmas and the pagan Solstice celebrationscommemorate.

Don't get me wrong, there is plenty wrong with Christmas. Findinga balance between the "putting Christ back in Christmas" religiosityon one side and the crass consumerism on the other is difficult. I was actuallynauseous the other day, seeing someone's lawn decorations of five foot tallinflated snow globes and light up Santa's sleighs on the roof and fifteen milesof electric lights. The money and resources wasted on such displays is so veryneeded by poor and starving people all over the world. How can we lookourselves in the mirror when we spend money on that? But neither does theaustere, focus on the infant Christ born of a Virgin to die for our sins typeof Christmas appeal to me. And then there are the

A Charlie Brown Christmas

smaller, more intimate andfamilial land mines to navigate during this time of year. Sometimes I wonder if I should call the whole thing off.

In her wonderful story, Visions of Sugar Plums, Margaret Morrisonstruggles with this dilemma. She is cleaning up after her Wiccan coven's WinterSolstice ritual when who should come to the door but jolly Old St. Nick. Shetells him in no uncertain terms that she doesn't believe in Santa Claus, orbaby Jesus or any of the other things that Christmas is all about but he...well, you should go read it tofind out what he says to her. Let's just say, that friend speaks my mind.

Rivkahfrom the blog Bat Aliya, in her post on Sukkot, wrotein other places Jews celebrate Sukkot, in Israel it is Sukkot. In thinkingabout Christmas this year, I realized how it is important to me to celebratethe festivals of my culture. I don't have any particular desire to be a culturaloutsider and really enjoy being a part of the larger activities andcelebrations of the people around me. I see enough of the earth based or paganspiritual impulses in many of the majority culture holidays that I have neverbeen uncomfortable with any disagreements in theology, and in fact, find greatcomfort in reliving, reinventing and rebuilding childhood traditions aroundholidays like Halloween, Easter and Christmas.

A Muppet Christmas Carol (the best Christmas movie ever!)

I've said in years past, Christmas is all about treats and traditions, Santa and Sinatra, atree and a nativity scene and puppies in Santa hats. It's about the Muppet'sChristmas Carol, Charlie Brown's tree and candy canes. As I build traditionsthat come out of my Quaker community it is getting to be more about O Come, OCome, Emmanuel, but I sing about all that snow in Vermont with my other friends.

How does your family celebrate Christmas? Do you have to reconciletheology with culture or do the two mesh well at this time of year? What areyour family traditions for food, movies, songs or activities around Christmastime? What did Santa bring you this year?

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Winter Solstice 2008: Good Morning Sun! and also Solstice Creche

Winter Solstice 2009: Christmas and Advent, Awaiting the Birth

Winter Solstice 2010: Christmas, 2010, Solstice Story, and The Dark of the Dark

Winter Solstice 2011: Advent and The Long Nights of Winter

The Long Nights of Winter

2011-12-24T15:54:00.000-08:00

Winter Solstice

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Long Winter

by Tim Nolan

So much I've forgotten

the grass

Winter

the birds

the close insects

the shoot - the drip -

the spray of the sprinkler

freckles - strawberries -

the heat of the Sun

the impossible

humidity

the flush of your face

so much

the high noon

the high grass

the patio ice cubes

the barbeque

Winter

the buzz of them -

the insects

the weeds of them - the dear

weeds - that grow

like alien life forms -

all Dr. Suessy and odd -

here we go again -

we are turning around

again - this will all

happen over again-

and again - it will -

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Solstice night found me at a friend's house for a lovely party. It was low key but energetic, full of people I know but none of the heaviness that can sometimes come with the most intimate of our relationships. We drank homebrewed cider and played music well into the wee, wee hours. The cider was fantastic, a blast of summer sun and autumnal ripening into this dark winter night and an interesting kind of intoxication I don't get from beer or liquor. It was wonderfully planty and sunshiney. The music was equally invigorating. It's been much too long since I participated in making music and it felt like a deep and connecting thing to do on the longest night of the darkest season.

Winter Sunrise

I did not wake up for the sunrise - my justification is that I have seen quite enough winter sunrises recently, thank you very much. I did, however, take a lovely walk first thing in the morning and soaked in all the winter sun I could get.

And now, the days get longer. Thank Goddess for that!

What did you do to celebrate the longest night? Did you stay up all night or go to bed early to dream magical dreams? Do you wake up for the sunrise or eat a special meal or is it just another short, dark winter day? What do you miss most about summer?

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Winter Solstice 2008: Good Morning Sun! and also Solstice Creche

Winter Solstice 2009: Christmas and Advent, Awaiting the Birth

Winter Solstice 2010: Christmas, 2010, Solstice Story, and The Dark of the Dark

Winter Solstice 2011: Advent

Advent

2011-12-21T17:00:00.000-08:00

Advent

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My Advent creche is out again and getting filled, week by week, with creatures awaiting the rebirth of the light and the year.

After Thanksgiving, as the spirits of the Beloved Dead still lingered around the holiday festivities, we took down our Dia de los Muertos altara, carefully putting away the mementos of those loved ones who are no longer living.

In it's place came the Nativity creche, barren and empty at first. This is one of my favorite moments of the advent season, when the creche that represents our hearts in the deep of winter, is empty. ready to be filled.

And then it begins to fill.

A candle I light
On the creche tonight
One candle now is seen

For rocks and bones and shining stones
One candle now is seen.

We await on Earth
The holy birth.
Our hope arises with the flame.
Our love and faith shall grow the same.
One candle now is seen.

On the first week of Advent we added stones, shells and bones. My quartz crystal cluster goes on, looking like something straight out of a Waldorf school story, and so does that improbably twisted bit of rock I collected in Southern Oregon all those years ago. Barren, still, but filling. And waiting.

Two candles I light
On the creche tonight
Two candles now are seen

For grass and trees, fruit and seeds
Two candles now are seen.

We await on Earth
The holy birth.
Our hope arises with the flame.
Our love and faith shall grow the same.
Two candles now are seen.

On the second week of Advent plant material is added. Boughs of Douglas Fir from out in front of my apartment building, bottle brush trees and a garland of green beads bring the realm of plants into the waiting, as well.

Three candles I light
On the creche tonight
Three candles now are seen

For creatures all who run, fly or crawl
Three candles now are seen.

We await on Earth
The holy birth.
Our hope arises with the flame.
Our love and faith shall grow the same.
Three candles now are seen.

On the third week of Advent the animal realm came in the form of horse, frog, goat and owl figurines in ceramic, enamel, wood and plastic. On the fourth week of Advent humans join the waiting. Mary and Joseph, some magi, a fairy godmother and a few others. Look how festive and full the creche is now!

Four candles I light
On the creche tonight
Four candles now are seen

For you and me, all people who were or will be
Four candles now are seen.

We await on Earth
The holy birth.
Our hope arises with the flame.
Our love and faith shall grow the same.
Four candles now are seen.

And soon, soon, soon it will be Solstice and then Christmas. The rebirth of the sun and the year! This year, my sister and I are also filling an Advent calendar with little gifties for each other. What a treat to open the drawer and find something tasty each day.

How does your family celebrate Advent? Do you decorate a creche or have an Advent calendar? Do you light candles on a table centerpiece or do something else to count down the weeks and days to Christmas or solstice? I'd love to hear about your traditions.

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Advent 2008: Waiting and Solstice Creche

Advent 2009: Christmas, Advent, Awaiting the Birth, and Moving from the Season of the Dead

Advent 2010: Winter is Dark, Yet Each Tiny Spark

Advent 2011: Living in Relationship

Living in Relationship

2011-12-10T11:28:00.000-08:00

Full Birth Moon

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During one of the last really difficult times in my life I found myself on a bus in Providence, Rhode Island right around this time of year, in fact. It was a terrible, dumb night and I looked out the window to see a sign on top of a cab that read, "Sometimes you're the pigeon, and sometimes you're the statue." It felt apt then, and it still feels pretty apt.

Life is hard and sometimes we make it harder than it needs to be. Once again, I feel like I am being shown and asked to work through the same situation over and over again in various aspects of my life because it is just that important right now. The situation this time is all about relationships. How do we live in relationship with other? How do we form and nurture relationships when we come from very different kinds of lives? How do we nurture relationships as our lives change? How do we address issues we have with other people's actions and values within the context of relationships?

This is the darkest time of the year when days are short and cold. The Earth has breathed her soul back in, bringing back the experiences gained from a summer of living out in the cosmos to be worked into wisdom in this dark time. This inward motion pulls the creatures that live on her surface into various kinds of rest, repose and reflection. Some creatures are sleepy and dormant, others have actually died, living on only in their seeds or eggs that will burst forth in life as spring warms them. Humans, too, feel this pull to be indoors, introspective, dreamy or reflective. In some cultures winter is the time for story telling, retelling and recreating the narrative of the culture's beginnings and values each winter. In the Christian calendar this is the season of Advent, of waiting and preparing for the birth of the savior at the darkest dark point of the year. In my eclectic pagan theology, it is the time when we are also waiting, working on the wisdom we gathered during the last year's cycle and waiting for the new birth of the year at solstice.

As we consciously and unconsciously work through all the things we experienced over the last season of growth and harvest we discern patterns and come to conclusions about how our life is and how we want our life to be. The really tricky part comes when we have to make decisions about how to act on any of these conclusions.

At West Hills Friends the first light of advent was called the light of the prophets. Prophets are in direct relationship with god and speak up to their community about what they know. Their speaking up often puts them at odds with the people around them and can even sever relationships with people they used to be in strong relationship with. When Abram got word from Yaweh that he was to leave his home in Ur and travel to another land, it meant leaving behind everything and everyone he had known from childhood. John the Baptist was beheaded for his prophesying and Joseph Smith was run out of town (er, three of them), tarred and feathered and finally murdered for his prophetic visions. Being true to what you see, what you know and what you believe requires great courage and faith; courage to act despite the uncertainty and faith that you deserve to be heard, no matter the outcome.

The second light of advent this year at West Hills Friends was dedicated to the Angel Gabriel and those who receive his word with wonder. Our pastor told the story of Zachariah who, when told that his wife would become pregnant in her old age, asked how that would be and was promptly struck dumb. Many people consider this a punishment on Zachariah for questioning the Angel, but our pastor pointed out that Mary asked the same question and was not silenced. Zachariah's silence, our pastor argued, was a gift. He didn't have to explain himself, he didn't have to expound on his experience and he didn't have to defend his actions, belief or wonder. I see parallels between Zachariah's silence in the face of mystery with the silence of plants, the correspondence for the second week of advent in the Waldorf tradition. Plants and trees stand tall in the face of all the glory and mystery that is life on this planet.

Sometimes, as we wrestle with how to be in an authentic relationship with other people that is true to our own needs and beliefs, but also loves and honors the other person's innate humanity, we wrestle with these polar positions of speaking and being silent. How do we speak our truth with courage? When do we stay silent in the face of wonder that is god incarnate in another person's life? When do we speak up to protect our own integrity and how do we stay silent when we don't understand what is going on?

This month's full moon, the full moon in both the Birth Moon and the Moon of Long Nights, is asking us all these questions and more. The full moon was fully eclipsed over much of the world on the night of December 10 and it feels like that eclipse brings even more questions and mysteries. As we spend these last two weeks sinking further into the darkness before the solstice, we might find ourselves wrestling with these questions. How do we live in relationship with other people? No one knows how to do it, but we all have to do it.

Moon photos by lamentables and jpstanley. Click on the photos or their names to see more of their amazing work. Thanks!

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Full Birth Moon 2008: Outer Darkness and Inner Hope
Full Birth Moon 2009: New Year! and A Story for the Birth Moon (these posts are dated 2010, but are for the year that took place mostly in 2009)

Full Birth Moon 2010: The Dark of the Dark, which also talks about a lunar eclipse. Favorites is also a Birth Moon post.

Favorites

2011-12-03T12:25:00.000-08:00

Birth Moon

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I've always had favorite landmarks and trees and animals and views on my drives. I always note them and greet them when I drive past. I mark the changing seasons based on how they change and enjoy coming back and seeing them when my path takes me back that way after an absence. There is a potted tree on a balcony near the Marquam Bridge that I watched change with the seasons for three years. I still wave to the sign for Hugo, OR that was a landmark on my drive up from college in Ashland.

On my long drive to The Quiet Little Mountain Town I have a few... the field with the cows up near Colton, the guard llama in the field with the reservoir near Molalla and this tree. It is a huge, stately oak tree on the corner of Hwy 99E and Hwy 211 on the outskirts of Woodburn. It is so huge that it must have been there long before the Little Ceasar's pizza it now stands in the parking lot of, or the Arco and Safeway across the busy intersection. It must have stood there when this was a sleepy corner in the middle of berry, lettuce or alfalfa fields. It might even have been there when this was still a soggy oak meadow frequented by mule deer, coyotes and Kalapuya people.

But now it is a friend of mine. A big, stately tree, silhouetted against the winter sky marking my abrut turn from south to east or west to north, heralding the beginning of the scenic, post-sunrise portion of my drive of the dark, straight shot to home. Thank you, tree. Thank you for surviving. Thank you for sporting those dashing yellow leaves and now the splendid black branches against the grey sky. Thank you for surviving, and still being here to show me the way. I hope you are here for another century or more, doing your tree thing.

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This is an extra, bonus post for the Birth Moon this year. There will be a full, solid, Full Birth Moon post next week sometime. Check out my other posts labeled Birth Moon.

The New Birth Moon

2011-11-29T20:48:00.005-08:00

New Birth Moon

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Lest that last post leave you worried that I am drowning in depressing and darkness....

The veil has lifted. The Birth Moon is risen!

I can't tell what made the change. I finished a big writing portion of my student last week and am actually teaching now. Maybe I finally was able to hang onto the positive attitude breakthrough I've been bobbing in and out of for a few weeks. Maybe it was God showing me, through a question asked at Meeting last weekend of what would heaven look like, that really cemented the change of heart. My response was that heaven looks just like this life, only I get the unshakable, undeniable knowledge that everything that happens is part of the Divine System and really will make everyone stronger, smarter, wiser and happier. It felt like as soon as I wrote those words down the scales fell from my eyes and I really did see heaven here and now.

Yes, I'm still tired. Yes, there is tons of work and stress. But I do really, honestly feel... really know in my heart... that it is all just the work that has been set up, uniquely and purposefully, for me.

Have you ever felt this realization? How have you worked through hard periods in your life? What sooths you in times of stress the way the sight of the new crescent moon soothed me this week?

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New Birth Moon 2008: Waiting

New Birth Moon 2009: Advent, Awaiting the Birth

New Birth Moon 2010: Winter is Dark, Yet Each Tiny Spark

New Birth Moon 2011: It's Hard

I also talked about Very Hard Things in the post Very Bad Things and Our Lady of Sorrows.

It's Hard

2011-11-26T20:21:00.000-08:00

New Birth Moon

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I'm student teaching right now and it is possibly the hardest thing I've ever done.

What's so hard is the commute. A solid hour each way with the sun rising halfway through the morning drive and setting halfway through the evening drive - if I leave right on time, which I rarely do. It's a long, stressful drive and it leaves me exhausted every day.

What's so hard is how tired I am. To get there before class starts means waking up at 5am. I rarely make it back home before 7pm and then it's essentially make-dinner-pack-lunch-pass-out time.

What's so hard is how lonely I am. I don't see my friends, or really have much contact with them. My days are filled with strangers and people I'm not terribly fond of. And those long, long drives.

What's so hard is how stressed out I am. I have so much schoolwork, both for the student teaching itself and for my other classes. I'm behind in everything, and this knot in my stomach hasn't really left in a couple weeks.

It's all hard, and sometimes I drown in the hardness. Sometimes I can't see out of my own Debbie-Downer attitude about being tired and lonely and stressed out. Sometimes I cry. OK, more than sometimes.

The new moon we are celebrating this weekend is the Birth Moon in Annette Hinshaw's calendar and the Moon of Long Nights in the calendar Jessica Prentice lays out. The Moon of Long Nights is the month of the Winter Solstice, the month of darkness.

In her book, Full Moon Feast, Jessica Prentice discusses a number of authors and researchers who have looked at how the human body responds to light and darkness, disease and health, known and unknown. She says something I've stated before on this blog - that our culture is a culture of light and growth and bigger, better, onward and upward but our physiology needs rest periods. Too often we deny the darkness and fallow periods in life to the detriment of our psychological, spiritual and physical health.

What is interesting to me is not so much the darkness of winter, but other kinds of darkness. I have spent a number of years allowing myself to sink into that rhythm of the seasons and have come to quite enjoy the rest that comes with the long nights and wet days of winter. What I am experiencing right now, though, is a different kind of darkness, a dark time of a trial or that dark night of the soul some people experience when they feel so far away from god. It's just so hard.

Some days, I drown in the darkness. I am lonely and sad and tired and freaked out. I am being pushed and stretched and molded and it hurts. I think about staying in bed or of driving to Texas instead of to my Quiet Little Mountain Town. Some days I am sure my friends don't care about me and I'll never be able to do what is asked of me and it will all end in disaster. It is dark, and hard.

Other days, or other hours, I can bob up out of the darkness and feel the pull of the Birth Moon even in the midst of the darkness. The Birth Moon is the time when new light and new hope is born, even in the middle of the hard. I can see clearly, my head is on straight and I know this is all for the good. The hard is the call, it is the point of it all. If I didn't do anything hard I'd never get any better and this particular hard only lasts a couple more weeks. I am actually coping well and learning so much. And the sunrises, and the beautiful mountain valleys, and the leaves and the kids are all amazing.

On these days I feel so clearly and strongly my pronoic foundational beliefs. The Universe really IS a conspiracy to make me smarter, wiser, happier and better. The difficult is doing the exact same thing as the delightful; making my life more fully useful to god's purposes. I am being tested and trained in the crucible, but it is all for the best. Hard is the calling, hard is the name of the game. But it's still really, really hard.

My family's Thanksgiving tradition is to go around the table during dinner and say what we are thankful for. This week I had four different Thanksgiving dinners with four different "families" and four different delicious spreads of food. And at each dinner I said what I was thankful for; I am thankful for my friends and family who do love me, even if my monsters sometimes try to convince me otherwise. I am thankful that no matter how poor or disadvantaged I may feel, I can still buy gas, socks and chocolate ice cream. I am thankful for the hard. It really is working to liberate me from suffering, shower me with blessings and make me smarter, stronger and happier.

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For the wide sky and the blessed sun,
For the salt sea and the running water,
For the everlasting hills
And the never-resting winds,
For trees and the common grass underfoot.
We thank you for our senses
By which we hear the songs of birds,
And see the splendor of the summer fields,
And taste of the autumn fruits,
And rejoice in the feel of the snow,
And smell the breath of the spring.
Grant us a heart wide open to all this beauty;
And save our souls from being so blind
That we pass unseeing
When even the common thornbush
Is aflame with your glory,
O God our creator,
Who lives and reigns for ever and ever.

A Thanksgiving prayer by Walter Rauschenbush.

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New Birth Moon 2008: Waiting

New Birth Moon 2009: Advent, Awaiting the Birth

New Birth Moon 2010: Winter is Dark, Yet Each Tiny Spark

I also talked about Very Hard Things in the post Very Bad Things and Our Lady of Sorrows.

Dia de los Muertos Altara

2011-11-12T17:47:00.000-08:00

Halloween

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It's been really nice to have the nature table set up in the dining room. It has become a real part of the house in a wonderful way. In the past, I have decorated an altar in my bedroom for the seasons, including Day of the Dead/Halloween/Samhain but it is really nice to have it in the main living space. Part of the idea of a traditional Mexican altara is that it is a place where the spirits of the beloved dead can come and visit the family, be invited back into the home. Having the seasonal table in the main living area really does that better than having it in my own room.

The altar cloth is a piece of crochet my mother's mother's mother made. On it is a Virgen of Guadalupe candle, seasonal nuts, leaves and feathers and a couple other candles.

The photos in the upper display are of my mother's mom and dad (Grandma Jean is still alive, but this was the best picture I could easily find of my grandfather), my mother's father's mother, Myrtle, and my dad's dad at sea in WWII.

Pictures of two family dogs, Lacey and Lucky are here as well as a little black lab figurine representing a number of other dogs I've known and loved who are no longer living.

On the left is a postcard I bought at the New Bedford Whaling Museum in Massachusetts. One of the coins is a Canadian coin with a polar bear on it. Samhain seems like an excellent time to remember the individual animals and entire species that are no longer living thanks to Western culture's actions and practices. The fossilized ammonite brings this same thought, only with more focus on the natural cycle of birth and death even beyond the individual level.

There is a wooden owl behind the red candle, almost under the oak leaf. Owls are often used to symbolize the passage of spirits into the underworld, and are always symbols of wisdom, knowledge and the people who seek those attributes.

There is a piece of tangarine quartz laying on the crocheted cloth. I chose it specifically because of its festive orange color, but tangarine quartz is also known for its healing properties. It is said that tangarine quartz can help a person see the underlying order in an apparently chaotic world and find compassion for the events and people who bring sadness or pain. It is said to help a person be able to leave the past in the past. All of these sound like excellent qualities to be mindful of during this season of commemorating the dead and working through grieving and questions about death.

My jade buddha is there on the right and the copper colored ganesh is over on the left. They, along with the namaste and gratitude engraved stones are pretty much always gonna be here :)

The skull card is an invitation to a Halloween party.

How do you celebrate Day of the Dead? What do you, or would you, put on your altara?

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Halloween 2008: When the Veil Between the Worlds is Thin

Halloween 2009: What Do You Really Want to Be?

Halloween 2010: Doggy Heaven (one of my all time favorite posts - it still makes me choke up a little every time I read it) and The Power of the Dog.

Halloween 2011: Day of the Dead

The Full Death Moon 2009 post mentions the Halloween season and the posts Martinmas and Nurturing Warmth at Martinmas are about another holiday associated with this point in the Wheel of the Year.

Nurturing Warmth at Martinmas

2011-11-10T19:56:00.000-08:00

Halloween

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St. Martin, St. Martin,
St. Martin road through wind and snow
on his strong horse his heart aglow
He rode so boldly through the storm,
his large cloak kept him well and warm.

By the road side, by the roadside,
by the roadside a poor man arose
out of the snow in tattered clothes
"I beg you help me in my plight
or else I'll die of cold tonight."

St. Martin, St. Martin,
St. Martin stopped his horse and drew
his sword and cut his cloak in two
one half to the beggar man he gave
and by this deed his life did save.

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Martinmas is a newer holiday for me to celebrate, but one that speaks very plainly to what I feel is an important movement during this time of late autumn and early winter. The festival is celebrated with lanterns containing the spark we found during Michaelmas season and are charged with carrying through the winter. As our sparks are held and protected we can be as generous as Martin was when he sliced his cloak in half to give to the beggar. The story of Martin is one of a man who made a flamboyant but genuine gesture of giving to someone in true need. As the winter cold begins to settle on the land, what can we do to both nurture our own spark and spread the warmth - physical, emotional and spiritual - to all the people of the world so in need of warmth.

Click on the image of the music below to go to a video of the song.

Be sure to check out In These Hills' post about Martinmas where I first learned this song (and all her other posts about Martinmas and the gesture of giving). Also, see the adorable pictures at Growing With My Girls and others that Carrie at The Parenting Passageway has linked to.

How are you marking the shift into winter? How are you protecting your spark as the days get darker? Are you involved in any charitable giving this time of year or making plans to do so as it draws nearer the winter holidays? How do you find, grow and spread warmth? Do you prefer to eat goose or almond shortbread cookies at Martinmas? Blessed Martinmas!

I took the photo of the sunrise mist and barn on my drive to my Quiet Little Mountain School. The lantern photo is from Recently Seen. Check out more of her photos on Flickr.

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Here are all my posts about Halloween, which is the solar festival that Martinmas is aligned to.

Martinmas 2010: Martinmas

Snow Moon: Connecting with Our Food

2011-11-08T20:30:00.000-08:00

Full Death Moon

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The moon a month before the winter solstice in Jessica Prentice's book, Full Moon Feast, is called the Snow Moon. In a pre modern society, this is the time of the year when the larders are full and people are beginning to live off their stored food rather than fresh food. It is fascinating for us, modern people with modern conveniences, to ponder life without refrigeration or electric freezers. What exactly does it take to make sure your household has enough food stored in a way that it will keep until fresh food becomes available again? And what does it mean to us and our connection with our food, with our food producers and with our larger community of spiritual beings that we don't have to think about where our food comes from?

Like most Americans, I get most of my food from grocery stores. On any day of the year I can easily get to a store and bring home almost any kind of fruit or vegetable, hygienic foods preserved in cans, bottles or frozen and even any number of prepared foods for a rather reasonable price. It is a rare week when I have to think about what I am going to eat further in advance than a couple of hours or maybe a day or two. Jessica Prentice points out that Americans tend to act like big babies when it comes to their food. We expect it to be available to us at any time with very little thought or effort on our own part. She notes that we are aghast when people claim they don't know how to drive but hardly bat an eye when people say they don't know how to cook.

Our ancestors, and many people all over the world, put infinitely more care into their food than we generally need to. Many people need to spend hours of the day for months of their year to collect, prepare and preserve enough food to meet their needs. These people are intimately in touch with their food from the exact part of the garden or field that it came from or which individual animal provided the food, through to what it looks and feels like in the kitchen through how it acts when it is prepared and preserved. They have an deep, visceral connection with their food.

Over the past few years I have been making small, spiraling movements towards this kind of connection with my food. I grow a garden each year and revel in my own small harvests of snow peas, snap beans, cherry tomatoes and radishes. My garlic crop is my pride and joy and I relish the yearly rhythm of planting it right around Halloween, watching it come up in the February, monitoring it through the spring and deciding exactly when, in late June or early July, to dig up the whole patch. Then there is the process of tying the bunches to dry and checking on them every few days until they are ready to be trimmed, brushed of dirt and sorted into seed garlic and eating garlic. Luckily, garlic is good to eat at every stage from sprout to cured, so there is no wasted garlic out of my garden.

I also have taught myself to make a number of foods that are traditional ways to preserve foods for the winter. I recently made a big batch of yogurt and have made sour cream and kefir, another fermented dairy product, in the past. I occasionally make sourdough breads and really enjoy making fermented vegetable pickles. Sauerkraut, kimchi and other fermented vegetables are, as Jessica Prentice points out, excellent ways to ensure a supply of enzyme and vitamin rich vegetables through a long, dark, cold winter. The fermenting actually increases some vitamin levels and also provides lactic acid, a digestive aid that no doubt helped our ancestors deal with an otherwise plain and coarse winter diet of dried or salted meat, beans and grains. Even today this tradition continues to serve fermented vegetables with heavy foods like sauerkraut with sausages and cornichons with pate. In Korea, kim chi could provide up to half the food intake for a family during the winter and is especially full of healthful food compounds thanks to the garlic, onions, ginger and chilies that usually spice the potent cabbage dish.

This autumn I finally gave in to the giant "sauerkraut cabbages" for sale at my favorite pumpkin patch farm. For less than 4 dollars I was able to take home 18 pounds of cabbage to turn into as much lacto fermented goodies as I could fit in my fridge. I used some of it to make a giant batch of coleslaw and another goodly pile of it became a braised cabbage dish but the rest became three kinds of sauerkraut, a fusion kim chi and three jars of cortido. My fermented cortido is based on the Latin American cabbage salad with pineapple, onion, garlic, chiles and oregano spicing the cabbage. It took me over a week to process the entire head of cabbage but now I have enough kraut to last at least through the winter.

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2011 Fusion Kim Chi

Check out my other blog for some more detailed instructions for making fermented vegetables like sauerkraut, pickled vegetables or kim chi.

Shred a pile of green cabbage and put it in a large mixing bowl. Fill it up about half way.

When you get sick of shredding cabbage, wash out a couple jars with lids, maybe two quart jars, or four pint jars, or whatever old spaghetti sauce jars you have. Slice 2 carrots into thin coins, planks or match sticks and toss them in with the cabbage.

Slice half an onion into longitudinal planks and toss that in two. Add in two handfuls of pineapple chunks, if you happen to have some sitting around like I did. You could add firm apples, pears or jicama instead, or leave that out all together.

Sprinkle about a tablespoon of salt over the cabbage and toss it. Peel a big ole knob of ginger and about 10 cloves of garlic. Chop them all up together into a fine mince, or slice them into planks. Toss that in with the vegetables. Doesn't it smell delicious?

Add a big shake of ground red chiles. (I usually use New Mexico chiles because I like the warmth and flavor but this time I used Aleppo pepper, a middle eastern variety. You can buy ground pepper for kim chi at an asian store, but every brand I've found has added MSG or other flavorings.) Add a little pepper flakes if you want more heat, or even some cayenne or fresh peppers if you like your kim chi fiery.

Look at it now. It should be glistening and moist, and bright red. Mix it up - with your hands, of course.

Taste a piece of cabbage and add some more salt if you need to. When it is good and salty, good and red, good and tasty start packing it into jars. Press the vegetables down until the brine comes up over top of the veggies. Pack the jars full but not over the threads of the jar. Close them up, let them ferment and then move to the fridge. Enjoy with macaroni and cheese, rice or anything else you serve at your winter table.

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Our spiritual connection with food is a huge topic that I intend to explore more fully this year but even this vast topic starts with the daily actions of eating and preparing food. We are adult beings who are able to take responsibility for feeding ourselves and do not need to abdicate that to restaurants or food manufacturers. Taking back our connection to our food starts with making dinner, with an pot of herbs on the windowsill, with an experiment in making jam or pickles or yogurt. I certainly don't claim any special knowledge on what is the most healthful or most ecologically sound diet, I just know it is important to care about what goes into our mouths. That food becomes us, it is our vital, physical, chemical, energetic link with the rest of creation. That shouldn't come out of a box.

What foods or dishes are you most connected with? Have you ever done any food preserving or growing food in a garden? Does what food you serve change as the seasons change or do you continue to take full advantage of our modern food distribution system (or both, like in my house)? What food means winter to you?

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Full Death Moon 2008: Full Moon in Taurus

Full Death Moon 2009: Moving From the Season of the Dead

Full Death Moon 2010: Wear it As Long as Thou Canst

A number of posts from my first year of blogging here contain recipes. At the Harvest Moon 2010 I shared a recipe for another of my favorite preserves, plum ketchup.

The End of the Year

2011-11-04T15:29:00.000-07:00

New Death Moon

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I just started my student teaching this week, or my "pre service teaching" as my University likes to call it (student teaching sounds too wimpy, they argue), and have been placed at a very small school in a rural community about an hour from my house. The early morning wake up is hellish, and the predawn drive a bit harrowing, but the school is very good and my cooperating teachers are going to work out really well. The real upside, besides finally getting into a classroom and beginning to actually teach, is my afternoon drives back through the farming country of the Willamette Valley. This is the land people crossed the mountains and deserts to get to, and still are, in fact (the town of Woodburn, about 40 minutes south of Portland, is the largest community in Oregon with over 50% of the population claiming Hispanic heritage). It is a beautiful country full of farms, fields and forests.

As I have been driving back and forth this week I have been noticing just how "done" the agricultural year is in the Willamette Valley. At the hop farms north of Woodburn the vines are all down and the tall support structures empty for the winter. There are many small farm stands along the way with signs up that say "Closed for the Winter", their vegetable patches empty and muddy. Alfalfa fields are mown and the rows of berry bushes are turning crimson and gold in the chilly nights. Higher up, closer to my school, most of the fields are either Christmas tree farms or horse, sheep or cattle pastures which are changing their character for the winter, too. The tall weeds are blackening and the grass is low and wet, just hanging on until spring. Horses have blankets on to ward off the chill and the sheep are woolly with their thick winter coats. One field of sheep has a guard llama in it and it took me two days to figure out exactly what that giant, woolly beast was. Everything is done growing and either dying back or just settling in for the winter. The people who work the land are settled in, too, or have moved on to other places where harvests are still happening. The land is just holding it's breath until the storms of winter come and, later, the renewal of spring.

It's the end of the cycle here at The Wheel and the Disk, too. This post marks the beginning of my fourth year of blogging. Again, this year, I posted for the new and full moon of every single month of the year plus at least one post for each eight solar holidays. In fact, I posted quite a few more posts than that, including two posts that were published in my Quaker Meeting's journal (here, and here) and two posts for Pagan Values Blogging Month (here, and here). Again, I celebrated Ramadan by finding meaningful information about Muslims, Islam and Ramadan and sharing it with my Facebook friends and then with you here at The Wheel and the Disk. My writings this year did an excellent job of highlighting the eclectic mix of inspiration I gather my own thinking from, including Quakers (and here, too), Catholics (and here, too), Buddhist stories, Greek mythology, Waldorf thought and practice and more modern stories, to name just a few. Some of my favorite posts from this year are the stories I wrote about Johnny Appleseed and Krishna and the Gopis. Neither of these stories are truly original - the plot and characters are as old as old can be - but I took them into my own self and brought them back out as original retellings.

This next year will be hard for me. One week into student teaching and I am already exhausted and overwhelmed. I wonder how this blog will fare when my time is so much more dedicated to teaching. I hope to keep writing both for myself and for you. I have seen my own thinking about the topics I explore deepen and broaden over the course of these three years and I want to keep exploring as long as I can. Next year, I would love to incorporate thoughts from another excellent book I have that is organized around the lunar months, Jessica Prentice's Full Moon Feast. She talks about seasonal food, community and connection through the lens of the seasonal round of moons. I think bringing this focus to my thinking, practicing and writing would be a wonderful challenge to align my life with my ideals about safe, sustainable and healthful food. I will take the year of blogging one step at a time, but promise to post something for each full and new moon, even if it is just a note or a photo.

As the land readies itself for the deep of winter, so do we. It is time to light our lanterns off the spark Michael took off the dying sun just those few weeks ago. It is time to bundle up, cuddle up and turn inward. Our season in the sun, expanded out towards the cosmos, has brought us a treasure trove of knowledge, now is the time to spend time working that into wisdom, as the gnomes work the sun's sparkling light into crystals during the winter.

How are you noticing the end of the year? What did you do in the last 12 months that you are most proud of, or from the last cycle you completed whether it took shorter or longer than 12 months? What wisdom did you bring back from your journeying and how are you lighting your lantern for the winter ahead? How has this blog touched you and your thinking? What would you like to see me think about, change or add next year? What was your favorite post from this last year?

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New Death Moon 2008: Time is a Circle

New Death Moon 2009: The Soldier and Death (another one of my all time favorite posts. I absolutely love this story, and am quite fond of my own retelling of it :)

New Death Moon 2010: Night and Day

I reviewed my first year of blogging at The Full Sorting Moon and my second year a Year Two Complete!

Day of the Dead

2011-11-01T12:39:00.000-07:00

Halloween

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This Samhain season I've been called to explore more of the Day of the Dead aspect of this important holiday. I certainly picked out a pumpkin at the pumpkin patch and dressed up and went out with my friends over the weekend, but the month of October has had a real theme of dealing with my ancestors and other beloved dead. My older sister has been spending some real effort to discover family stories and tracing our geneaology in recent months and she asked me to look through our dad's photos for a picture of our grandmother. That search spurred me to do a major overhaul of his photo albums which were in dire need of repair or updating. My grandmother had put two albums together for my father sometime in the 1950s and they were physically falling apart. I've spent many hours over the last month or so taking the photos off the disintegrating paper and putting them in new albums, a process that has led to a number of very fruitful conversations with my dad about his life history and family (Ok, those conversations have been as fruitful as possible with a man who generally considers "grumph" a reasonable response to most inquiries).

Neither side of my family really has close intergenerational ties. Both of my grandfathers died decades before I was born and my father's mother died when I was a young child and had lived my entire life across the country from her. Both of my parents were part of the Baby Boom generation that rebelled in many ways against traditional family structure and values, a movement I still believe is valid and valuable, but that has caused irreparable rifts in family ties. Two years ago, when I wrote about my Halloween altar I noted that I had a picture of an extinct species because I almost felt that loss more strongly than the loss of my own family members.

This puts me in a place that is inherently different from the vast majority of humans over time and across the globe. In many, maybe even most, cultures, ancestors are a close and vital part of each individual’s community. Grandparents and maybe even great grandparents would have played a strong roll in raising a child and those people’s deaths would give the young adult an intimate connection with other ancestors who were no longer living. People very often lived in the same community, or even the same homes, that their ancestors had lived in and followed daily practices and traditions that they shared with those ancestors. This is not, in any way, my reality.

My first real cognition of that strong, shared connection with my ancestors came from my study of cell biology and genetics. I realized that the mitochondria in every cell in my body was exacly the same as the mitochondria in my mother’s body, and those in her mother’s body and her mother’s body. Something as intimate as my own DNA was shared with these women who I knew only barely or not at all. Later in my life, through conversations with my father’s sister, I had a realization that habits of mind and speech, childhood baggage and other less tangible aspects of what I consider myself are passed down from generation to generation in a family.

won tickets earlier this month to see a play at a theater here in Portland that focuses on Hispanic culture. The play, their Dia de los Muertos production, was a billingual story about a young woman experiencing revolution in a 21st century middle eastern country being visited by her ancestors who tell their story of experiencing revolution in 19th century Mexico. One of the things that struck me in the play is how present her ancestors were to her, both physically and emotionally. This morning I listened to an interview with a prominent Mormon journalist and blogger and she said she felt the same presence of her ancestors. Their stories of conversion and migration to live out their Mormon spirituality felt very heavy to her and she said as a young person she experienced “visitations” and proddings from her ancestors who seemed quite invested in her daily life. In talking about difficulties in her relationship with her father she was very clear that her tradition believes that families choose to be together, that they somehow know each other before their earthly births and come together to have certain kinds of experiences together. This thought is held in Waldorf communities, too, and is one that, despite it’s issues (does anyone choose to be born in extreme poverty, with debilitating illness or deformity, or into abusive situations?) provides some level of comfort to me.

I don’t have the strong intergenerational connections of a traditional Mexican family and I don’t believe in eternity spent with my current family, but I do know we are in this particular journey together. My parents are a deep part of me, and through them so are their parents and their parents. Other branches of my family are a part of me, too, even the parts that I share no blood with. I believe that my purpose here on earth is to, through my incarnation into this body and self, have a physical and relational experiences that the non-physical spirit of god can not. Humans have their core physical and relational experiences within the family and so, no matter how difficult it may be, those relationships are vitally important.

What are you celebrating this Halloween season? Were or are you close to your grandparents and other ancestors or have you had a journey of discovery like mine? When do you feel closest to your ancestors? Is it now, during the time of the year when the veil is thin between this world and the other? Rob Brezsny's homework assignment this week was "Which ofyour dead ancestors would you most like to talk to?Imagine a conversation with one of them." Which ancestor would you most like to hear from this early winter? What did you dress up as for Halloween?

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These photos are my personal family photos. If you would like to know more about them please send me an email.

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Halloween 2008: When the Veil Between the Worlds is Thin

Halloween 2009: What Do You Really Want to Be?

Halloween 2010: Doggy Heaven (one of my all time favorite posts - it still makes me choke up a little every time I read it) and The Power of the Dog.

The Full Death Moon 2009 post mentions the Halloween season and the post Martinmas is about another holiday associated with this point in the Wheel of the Year.

Sorting it All Out

2011-10-28T12:39:00.000-07:00

New Sorting Moon

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Oh you may not think me pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!

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It is the new Sorting Moon, the time just before the end of the cycle when we reflect, analyze and decide what to do with what we have learned. One of the amazing things about the cycles Annette Hinshaw has tapped into with this calendar is that they happen at different scales, from micro moment to moment decisions all the way to macro life and civilization scale systems, all at the same time. I feel like I am currently dealing with issues at many different levels of experience these days ranging from family and friends, church community and larger community all the way up to my global community. It feels overwhelming and thrilling and difficult and useful. How can I even begin to evaluate my experiences?

I love astrology, tarot, oracle decks, personality indexes, temperament systems and all other forms of archetypal sorting systems. I love thinking about how a person or an event has "Scorpio" elements or "is so 4 of cups, right now." I find these short hand notations for a whole slew of images, thoughts and stories to be immensely helpful in sorting through my experiences. This is very much one of the reasons I was drawn to Annette Hinshaw's calendar. After following it for as many years as I have, I can totally say "this issue is totally a Sorting moon issue, isn't it?"

I finally saw the last Harry Potter movie the other week and it reminded me of how I view the Hogwarts house system in this same way. Like some other archetypal sorting methods, it is a rather crude system of polar elements that does not reflect the spectrum of humanity that actually exists, but it can be helpful in categorizing experiences. As the Sorting Hat song quoted above notes, students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry belong to one of four houses. They live in dormitories with their housemates, have classes with other members of their house, play sports together and generally form close social and friendship bonds. Each of the four houses have their own traits, colors, insignia and stereotypes. The song here is from Harry's first year at Hogwarts and gives a basic introduction to the four houses.

Interestingly, as you read the stories you see very clearly that the four houses align with the four ancient elements of Fire, Air, Earth and Water and thus with all kinds of other archetype systems (four humors, four temperaments, tarot suits, astrology elements, etc). There are online quizzes to find out which house you belong in, but for many people it is so self evident that the Sorting Hat would hardly have to touch your head before shouting out your new home. Wanna guess which house I belong it? It's not really hard, is it? We hufflepuffs, loyal and true, patient and kind are very good finders ;)

Hufflepuff, the Hogwarts house associated with the earth element (like my sun sign, Virgo, and my favorite tarot suit, pentacles) and is symbolized by a badger rampart on a black and yellow field. This badger has actually been a real help for me in sorting through some of the issues I have been facing lately. Badgers, and other burrowing mammals, look cuddly and lumbering but they really can be quite stubborn and tenacious when they need to. I think of Badger from The Wind in the Willows as an excellent example of this. During the winter he was quite sedate, napping and giving young hedgehogs all the warm food they needed, but when spring came, woe be unto the weasel that got between Badger and justice for his friend, Mr. Toad.

The other day I had a tiff with someone close to me and realized that my reactions in the situation were a classic badger move. I saw the straight line to my just cause and I barreled right towards it. When my friend blocked my way with her own needs and preferences I snarled and swatted and continued barreling right through. It was not a terribly effective way of getting what I wanted, which included not damaging my relationship with my friend. Both of us were able to talk about our situation and work out both our actual needs and our relationship needs. And people think Hufflepuffs are pushovers. Hah!

How is your autumn going? What are you sorting out these days and what systems really help you with that task? Have you made any pumpkin desserts yet or gone to the pumpkin patch? What Hogwarts house would you be sorted into?

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New Sorting Moon 2009: New Sorting Moon

New Sorting Moon 2010: Useful, Beautiful or Loved

An Ill Harvest

2011-10-20T23:40:00.001-07:00

Full Harvest Moon

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You've been following the Occupy Wall Street movement, haven't you? Maybe you've read some articles, seen John Stewart's take on the protests or forwarded along photos, videos and other information on Facebook. Maybe you even joined the a march, rally or protest in your local area. Or maybe, like me, you've felt some kind of way about the whole thing and didn't.

I've been very curious with myself trying to understand my ambivalence. I am in support of the movement, at least in many ways and as I see it. I believe that our political and economic systems funnel wealth and power to an elite few while disadvantaging a majority of people. I believe that citizen should protest when their government doesn't support their rights and needs and believe that government should play a roll in redistributing wealth, creating social safety nets and limiting the power of the wealthy. I believe we should be spending money on schools, public infrastructure and health care so that no one in this, the richest nation on earth, would be without the basics for survival and the ability to make their lives better. I really do believe all of that, and still, I didn't go down to Occupy Portland last week.

One of my concerns, valid or not, is that a rally and a protest are not going to change things. My organizer friends remind me that the point of a rally is not to change policy (though that does appear to be one aim of the Tahrir square-like Occupy Wall Street protest), but to show the public how much support there is for change and give activists time and space to talk, share ideas and boost morale. I guess those are good goals, but I wonder if it is the best way for me to spend my energy.

Ultimately, I see that our unjust system of politics and economics are the results of generations of decisions, very few of which had the explicit goal of giving some people advantage at the expense of others (some people will argue with me on that, I really don't believe in a group of old white guys sitting around trying to screw the rest of us [with the exception of women's fashion, they really are trying to screw us there]). We are currently reaping the harvest of short sightedness, putting personal material gain above all else and general unintended consequences. It is an ill harvest, but I don't really think we can put the apples back on the tree and hope for new ones before winter.

I am glad there are people who want to brave bad weather, giant crowds and pissed off, power drunk cops to protest. I am also glad there are people who want to counsel prisoners and volunteer in African refugee camps. I just don't think these are my ways of doing the work to fix things. The world needs all of us to do what we can to make it a better place but we need to discern where our efforts are best used, what we can sow to reap the best harvest. Maybe I was being lazy or scared or just crowd averse when I didn't go downtown last week. I spent the day reading about critical pedagogy and integrated curriculum in middle schools, cooking food from my garden and resting my body that wasn't feeling at the top of it's game. I don't have a witty sign to show for my efforts on October 6th, 2011 but I think I sowed some seeds that I will be able to harvest in the future. I hope my actions on that day, and all others, ripple out into the universe. And I hope the rain holds off on the Occupy folks, at least for another week or so.

How are you feeling about Occupy? Are there rallies and camp ins happening where you are? Are you forwarding stuff on social media or talking about it with your friends and family? How are you planting seeds of peace, justice and goodwill in your life? What harvests, good or ill, are you taking in these days? Has it started raining in your neck of the woods?

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Full Harvest Moon 2009: The Moon When Squirrels Throw Acorns at You (Inexplicably, my most viewed post. Ir has been viewed over 500 times, more than two hundred times more than my second most viewed post. Curiouser and curiouser.)

Full Harvest Moon 2010: Harvest Moon

C.S. Lewis on Praise

2011-10-01T22:38:00.000-07:00

New Harvest Moon

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Before the loaf, the snowy white flour
Before the flour the mill.
Before the mill the wheat and the shower,
The sun and Our Father's will.

I have been reading a collection of C.S. Lewis essays called Reflections on the Psalms. I've read a few other pieces of Lewis' non-fiction work, letters and essays, and greatly enjoy them all. He and I may differ quite significantly in some aspects but I do love reading him. I would love to have him as a neighbor or great uncle to visit with, drink tea and listen to him ramble on about God and life and such.

In his rambling on about the Psalms he comes to the issue of praise of God. He says that he never used to understand the commandment to praise God or the way some people seems to be bargaining with God through praise. He finally came to a realization that praising god is the scaled up version of the praising we do of all good things in our lives. "It is frustrating to have discovered a new author and not to be able to tell anyone how good he is; to come suddenly, at the turn of the road, upon some mountain valley of unexpected grandeur and then to have to keep silent because the people with you care for it no more than for a tin can in the ditch. " We express our delight and enjoyment because that expression makes the enjoyment full. We delight and enjoy God and so can't help but exclaim that joy in words, songs and actions of praise.

Lewis makes the point that this praise is not only natural, but it is evidence of health. "The healthy and unaffected man, even if luxuriously brought up and widely experienced in good cookery, could praise a very modest meal: the dyspeptic and the snob found fault with all." A healthy attitude towards life leads to praising earthly experiences so a healthy attitude towards the divine would equally lead to robust and genuine praise of God. The question I have, though, in light of this current Harvest Moon, is which is the seed and which is the harvest? The healthy attitude or the genuine praise?

For our daily bread we thank the Father
We thank the sun and the moon and the stars
We thank the wind and the frost and the rain
We thank the earth, we thank the grain
The thank the beasts and all farming men.

I have been thinking a lot about gratitude, complaining, cynicism and acceptance lately. I've been more and more annoyed by negativity I see in people around I have been making an effort to not take part in that talk or thinking myself. I made a New Water Year resolution to not complain about the weather, a resolution I joke will lead me to an abnormally high level of complaining about my clothes. But then I think, clothes are something I can change so it's OK to critique them, the weather is not. Many great thinkers from Gautama Buddha to Viktor Frankl to Thomas Jefferson have said that attitude is the key to a fulfilled life. There is a space between what happens to us and how we react and in that space we make a decision about how we will react and what we will believe about the action. This is a space for optimism, for gratitude and for god.

I still wonder, though, which is the seed and which is the harvest? Do we have a steady bearing in the world because we make space for gratitude and praise in between events and reactions, or does a good attitude cause the space to open up? Maybe, like so many other complex systems, it is a matter of both elements playing a part. We nudge the system from whatever part of it we happen to be standing at in the moment - giving thanks when we want to complain, or inserting praise into the space we feel at the moment in between.

The seed and root beneath the earth,
The willful growing shoot,
The hopeful bud and flow'ring blossom
Turned to glowing fruit.
We thank the earth who grew this food from little bursting seeds,
And the keepers of the earth whose gifts fulfill our needs.

What harvests are you celebrating this month? Are you seeing a harvest in attitude, thanksgiving or relationship with god or is that a future harvest you are sowing for now? How is your garden winding up? Have you found any fruit trees in the neighborhood or great deals at the green grocer? How do you give thanks when you really just want to complain?

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New Harvest Moon 2009: The Harvest Moon is New

Apparently I didn't post a New Harvest Moon post in 2010, but I did post Harvest Moon during that month.

Michaelmas Photos

2011-09-30T14:01:00.000-07:00

Autumn Equinox

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Michaelmas season is my favorite time of year and I couldn't let it pass without some more photos.

The season started with the yellow flowers of September. The purple asters are called Michaelmas Daisies and I look for them (and find them) everywhere this time of year. Rianna of These Days in French Life finds a color in each month and her September is the deep purple of grape and plum harvests. My September is the golden yellow and light of these flowers. My favorite colors in my favorite month.

The golden-rod is yellow
The corn is turning brown
The trees in the apple orchards
With fruit are bending down

The gentian's bluest fringes
Are curling in the sun
In dusty pods the milkweed
Its hidden silk has spun.

Sedges flaunt their harvest
In every meadow nook
And asters by the brook-side
Make asters in the brook

From dewy lanes at morning
The grapes' sweet odors rise
At noon the roads all flutter
With yellow butterflies

By all these lovely tokens
September days are here,
With summer's best of weather
And autumn's best of cheer.
Helen Hunt Jackson

September is also the month of the Vaux's Swifts roosting at Chapman School in Northwest Portland. It is an amazing natural event made even more amazing by all the awesome Portlanders who show up to watch it every night. The tiny birds nest and rear young all over the are but come together to roost in a chimney at the school before heading out on their fall migration south. There can be over 10,000 birds flying into the chimney on any given night in September and hundreds of people gathered to watch. It is a September ritual for many people in Portland, including myself.

"It looks like pepper flying in the sky!" I overheard a little girl say. "No! It looks like a dragon," her brother insisted. I agree.

Speaking of dragons, I started a new Michaelmas tradition this year by baking a dragon bread. This is a common activity in Waldorf schools and families but it was my first year doing it. A bread dragon is an excellent, hands on way to symbolize both the vanquishing of a dragon and incorporating it's lessons into our selves, and also the harvest aspect of the season.

Fresh baked bread's a yummy treat
Made with love and warmth and wheat
knead the dough, then let it rise
and soon you'll have a big suprise.
From the water, flour and yeast
grows a golden, delicious beast.
Unknown

I did get up for my Equinox sunrise ritual. It was a lovely, crisp morning at my fruit field. The mountain was visible and so was the old crescent moon. I found a pear to add to my dragon bread breakfast and watched the sun come up in a fiery orange blaze.

The autumn winds blow open the gate,
St. Michael for you we wait.
We follow you, show us the way,
With joy we greet this autumn day.
Good morning, good morning, good morning.

The silver rain, the shining sun,
the fields where scarlet poppies run,
the fallen leaves blow up and away,
with joy we greet this autumn day.
Good morning, good morning, good morning
Wynstones Press book Autumn (I believe)

Happy Michealmas!

In Autumn Saint Michael with sword and with shield,
Passes over meadow and orchard and field.
He's on the path to battle 'gainst darkness and strife,
He is the heavenly warrior protector of life.

The harvest let us gather with Michael's aid;
The light he sheddeth fails not nor does it fade
and when the corn is cut and the meadows are bare
We'll don Saint Michael's armour and onward we'll fare.

We are Saint Michael's warriors with strong heart and mind,
We forge our way through darkness Saint Michael to find.
And there he stands in glory, Saint Michael we pray,
Lead us into battle and show us thy way.
-Anonymous

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Autumn Equinox 2009: The Autumnal Equinox and The Earth is Breathing its Soul Back In

Autumn Equinox 2010: Here Be Dragons and A Dragon Tale for Michaelmas

Autumn Equinox 2011: Michaelmas Season

Michaelmas Season

2011-09-26T10:08:00.000-07:00

Autumn Equinox

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The season is swirling around and I am feeling very caught up in it. I love the ride, the golden light, the crisp mornings and hot afternoons, the change in birdsong and the ripening fruit, but I am also feeling pushed and pulled all over the place. I haven't found my new grip yet. Must be the turning of the wheel into autumn.

Autumn is my favorite time of year. I love the cooler days, the yellowing plants, and the harvest. I especially love the comforting feel of the constricting energy that fall brings. In the summer, the Earth is in the height of its long outbreath. It's soul is expelled fully out to outer reaches of it's atmosphere, touching the cosmos. This gives those of us on the surface energy and freedom. We want to be outside, live outside, be up early, stay up late, run and play and swim and be in the world. I tend to feel a little frayed by the end of it all, like last season's prayer flags, faded and rough around the edges. As the earth turns towards the Winter, it begins to breathe its soul back in. This constricting energy makes me feel like I'm being given some more boundaries. A bed time seems like a reasonable idea. Sitting down to dinner instead of just grabbing some food on the run makes sense. Rebuilding the rhythms of a life that includes work as well as play, rest as well as activity. It's the back-to-school season in more ways than one.

Fall, Leaves, Fall

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.

I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night's decay
Ushers in a drearier day.

-Emily Bronte

In my evolving wheel of the year, I call this time the Michaelmas Season. The story of Michael is one of a hero who harnesses heavenly and earthly powers to subdue and over come a primeval force of chaos and fear. There are many stories told about dragons and heroes this time of year and all of them help align us with this powerful movement of the seasons, both inner and outer.

My Quaker pastor, who's sermons are always a mix of hilarious and thoughtful storytelling, told a story this morning about a world plagued by a terrifying serpent. It lept out of the ground in a village, ripping up cobblestones, showering the area with rubble and dust, knocking people over and devouring the tinker's faithful mule. The villagers filled the hole in with rocks and logs, paved over the square and put up a statue to the mule. After a number of years the tinker was able to purchase a new-to-her mule and travel further afield selling her wares. She came upon a large city with towers and guards all around it. A friendly guard allowed her in and took her up on one of the towers to show her what the fortifications were all about. There were large cannons on each tower but instead of facing outwards, towards an enemy's army, the cannons faced inward, toward the town square. Specifically, facing the gaping hole in the middle of the square. The guard told her about the serpent and how the city had responded to the threat by building all these battlements. Everyone was expected to do their part in helping guard against the serpent threat, including a tax levied on traveling merchants and tinkers. The tinker owed, as it happened, exactly one mule.

In this time of year when we prepare ourselves for the coming darkness of winter we are also asked to prepare ourselves for the coming challenges of earthly life. There will be illness, poverty, pain, loneliness and eventually an end of this life. The story of the tinker and her mules mules reminds us that we can prepare for these inevitable burdens in any number of ways, some of which are actually more detrimental than beneficial. Michael provides us with heavenly iron to arm ourselves this time of year, but the real defense against debilitating fear is internal strength and courage. These things come from the dynamic interplay between God's love and providence, and our own willful building of our lives.

We wait in hope for the LORD;
he is our help and our shield.
In him our hearts rejoice,
for we trust in his holy name.
May your unfailing love be with us, LORD,
even as we put our hope in you.

Psalm 33:20-22, New International Version

I marked the Michaelmas with some of my favorite September activities. I put up my St. Michael and the Dragon mobile, watched the swifts at Chapman School and woke up for the sunrise on Equinox morning. I went again to my favorite fall fruit picking field and walked around as the sun creeped up behind Mt. Hood. I made dragon bread the night before, a new Michaelmas activity for me. Bread dragons are easy to vanquish and nourishing as well. At the field, I found a lovely pear tree in full fruit and happily accepted the gift. In prayer, I have been given the image of a pear tree, laden with full and heavy fruit hanging within easy reach, as an image of God's provisions available to me. Pears seem a perfect image for God's gifts. The fruit is earthy, woman shaped and sweet but bruises easily so must be conscientously picked and preserved. It is not a windfall treat.

As the sun came up, all pink and orange, over the misty autumn field I laid out my feast and said my thank yous. Thank you sun, thank you mountain. Thank you pear tree and grain field. Thank you morning and thank you evening. Most of all, thank you autumn!

How are you marking the turning of the wheel into Autumn? What dragons are you facing these days and how are you preparing to meet with them? Are your preparations costing you more mules than they need to? What's your favorite kind of autumn fruit?

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Autumn Equinox 2009: The Autumnal Equinox and The Earth is Breathing its Soul Back In

Autumn Equinox 2010: Here Be Dragons and A Dragon Tale for Michaelmas

Weddings

2011-09-18T09:54:00.000-07:00

New Nesting Moon

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Frog went a courtin' and he did ride, uh-huh
Frog went a courtin' and he did ride, uh-huh
Frog went a courtin' and he did ride
With a sword and a pistol by his side,
uh-huh uh-huh, oh yeah.

He went down to Miss Mousie's door, uh-huh
He went down t' Miss Mousie's door, uh-huh
He went down Miss Mousie's door,
Where he had often been before,
uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh

He took Miss Mousie 'pon his knee, uh-huh
He said, "Miss Mouse, will you marry me?" , uh-huh
"Without my Uncle Rat's consent
I wouldn't marry the President."
Uh-huh, uh-huh, oh yeah.

Well now, where will the wedding supper be? Uh-huh
Where will the wedding supper be? Uh-huh
Hey, where will the wedding supper be?
Way down yonder in a hollow tree,
uh-huh, uh-huh, oh yeah.

Now Mister Frog was dressed in green, M-hm, M-hm,
Now Mister Frog was dressed in green, uh- huh
Now Mister Frog was dressed in green
Sweet Miss Mouse looked like a queen.
uh-huh, uh-huh, oh yeah.

First to come in was the Junie Bug, uh-huh
Yeah first to come come in was the Junie Bug, uh-huh
First come in was the Junie Bug,
She brought the whiskey in a water jug,
uh huh, uh-huh, uh-huh

They all gathered round the lucky pair, M-hm, M-hm
They all gathered round the lucky pair, M-hm, M-hm,
They all gathered round the lucky pair
Singing, dancing everywhere,
uh huh, uh-huh, uh-huh

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On the night of the full Nesting Moon I was dancing and feasting in celebration of the wedding of a pair of my good friends. The Nesting moon asks us to celebrate both our current bounties and to plan for our future needs by husbanding that bounty well. A wedding is a perfect place to express that very sentiment.

Both weddings I went to this summer had beautiful ceremonies and fantastic parties. I came away from both so full of gratitude to the families who provided for such a wonderful event. The first bride's parents rented her friends a large house to stay at for the weekend and we had such a great time. The second wedding occurred at the bride's parents property in the Coast Range and the neighbors allowed us to pitch tents in their orchard. Both weddings enjoyed perfect weather, gorgeous natural scenery and dance parties to end all dance parties.

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Come on all right
We're gonna celebrate
One more time
Celebrate and dance for free
Music's got me feeling so free
Celebrate and dance so free
One more time
Music's got me feeling so free
We're gonna celebrate
Celebrate and dance for free
One more time

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Both of my pairs of friends who were married this summer did so after many years of dating, loving and living together. Both couples had faced trials in their relationships and come out the other end feeling even more strongly that they were ready to commit to a lifetime together. The Nesting Moon asks us to get ready for those challenges that we will all face. Winter is coming whether we are prepared or not so it is best to test your skills before they are really needed, to stock your larder before you are hungry and to nourish your support network so it is there when you are in need.

I was so inspired by the communities present at both weddings. I am a part of a large group of amazing lady friends who party together, take care of each other and inspire each other. The adults of our parents' generation at both weddings also showed off their strong communities. One set of parents has lived in a rural community where they have grown gardens, chickens and families together. Another set of parents are pillars in their community with an extended family and friend group that were there to help and love all the kids of the community. My group of friends has commented over and over again that we need to continue to keep our bonds of friendship strong, even as our lives change during these years as we transition from young adult hood into the next stage. We see what a blessing that strong community is and we want it for ourselves and our future kids as well.

Celebrating what is. Looking to what may be. The Nesting Moon asks us to do both, at the same time and so does a wedding. Both ask us to look into making our future the best it can be, no matter what may come up. Both ask us to celebrate our successes, both material, communal and spiritual. Both ask us to think about what we want our home to really look like, who we want our home to look like.

Happy Nesting Moon!

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Alabama, Arkansas
I do love my ma and pa
Not that way that I do love you

Holy moley, me oh my
You're the apple of my eye
Girl, I've never loved one like you

Man, oh man, you're my best friend
I scream it to the nothingness
There ain't nothing that I need

Well, hot and heavy, pumpkin pie
Chocolate candy, Jesus Christ
Ain't nothing please me more than you

Ah, home
Let me go home
Home is wherever I'm with you
Ah, home
Let me go home
Home is wherever I'm with you

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The "poems" are song lyrics from songs actually sung or played at the weddings this summer. The first is Froggy Went A-Courting, a traditional English ballad. One bride's father re-wrote the song with lyrics that told the story of his daughter and her groom's courtship and marriage. We all sang along. The second is Daft Punk's One More Time. The other bride's younger brother chose it as the final song for our dance party at his sister's wedding. The song culminated with the group of friends lifting the bride and groom onto their shoulders and dancing around them. We were all singing. The third set of lyrics is the song Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. The friends and family at the first wedding secretly practiced singing and playing the song and sang it to the bride and groom instead of a traditional maid of honor toast. Everyone sang along.

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Full Nesting Moon 2009: Hey.. It's My Birfday!

Full Nesting Moon 2010: Spider Moon

My Full Milk Moon 2011 post, The Positive Feedback Loop of Love, is also about weddings.

Golden Autumn

2011-09-08T16:32:00.000-07:00

The New Nesting Moon

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The New Nesting Moon this year came right before my birthday, which is a very important festival in my personal Wheel of the Year. Falling right at the beginning of September, it marks the real end of Summer for me and the beginning of my favorite season - Golden Autumn.

Golden Autumn is that wonderful time when the trees, the grass and the sky all seem to have turned yellow. It hasn't rained in Portland for weeks and this year a late heat wave really dried up any last herbaceous plants holding onto their green. The maples, sweet gums and alders are turning yellow but none of the trees are quite yet orange or red. And the light! Some days I've been confused about what time it is because the light is so low and yellow making mid afternoon feel like mid evening. There have been forest fires in the mountains close to Portland and the smoke has given us some specatcular gold, pink and bronze sunsets. I'm on the look out for a perfect day - cool enough for a sweater in the morning and evening but warm enough for shorts in the afternoon, with the trees having turned color but not dropped their leaves. It will happen soon, in my favorite Golden Autumn season.

Golden Autumn is my birthday season and it is the birthday season of another woman very important to me, my maternal grandmother. I was able to visit with Grandma Jean for a whole week when I was down in Los Angeles last month and it was a long overdue visit. Jean is my only surviving grandparent and the only one I've ever really known. Grandma Jean has always been a strong, feisty and independent woman and many of my childhood memories of her are more of her being a strange and willful force imposed on my life than as a stereotypical matronly grandmother. She retained much of her Midwestern sense of propriety and there is a family joke about her way of shaking her head and spitting out a "Well... I just... well!" when we did things she didn't approve of. When I was in middle school she and I got in quite a fight over my need for church shoes. We were attending a very laid back Unitarian Universalist Fellowship at the time and I was as likely to wear Birkenstocks and pajama pants to church as anything else. No, Grandma, I don't need church shoes. "Well... just... well."

This September Grandma Jean turned 94 and continues to live an amazing and full life. I was able to ask her questions about her life and just listen to her stories this summer, a rare treat. She was born on a farm in Loup City, Nebraska and during the Depression her father lost that farm and they moved to another one in Litchfield.. Her father raised corn and wheat as well as hogs, dairy cattle and 9 children. There was quite an age difference between Jean and her older sisters so she ran with the younger boys in the family and was quite a tom boy. She said she remembered having the milk the cows, up to 15 in an evening, and she hated it. She much preferred riding horses, a pass time she continued up until her kids were born. She graduated from high school and attended just enough college to get a teaching school. She taught in a 1 room school house outside of Litchfield where she had kids ranging from 7 to 18 years old, including boys bigger and older than she was. She hated that, too, but saved up enough money to go on a road trip with some of her girlfriends. Six of them headed out west in one of the girls' Buick, staying in Colorado before heading on to Los Angeles and Tijuana. I can't even begin to imagine what Tijuana was like in 1934! While staying with one of her mother's cousins in Long Beach, California she visited The Pike, a boardwalk with a roller coaster, a salt water plunge and other amusements. She met the man who ran

the Magruder's Salt Water Taffy stand and he offered her and her friends jobs if they wanted to stay. Jean went back to Nebraska that year, but the following year moved back out to California with the family of another friend.

Long Beach must have been a magical place for Jean. She knew she didn't want to stay in Nebraska and Long Beach was a party town in those years. There is a story that one of the farmer's sons back home had courted her but she told him, "Carl, I'm not staying in Litchfield. You'd do better to go out with my sister, Lois." My mother remembers visiting her Uncle Carl and Aunt Lois in Litchfield in the 1960s, where he ran the service station and still farmed. In Long Beach, Jean tried her hand at waitressing, but when that didn't work out ended up working for Mr. Magruder at the Salt Water Taffy stand. She told me she mostly popped popcorn and that it was a lot of work to lift the bags of corn, pop it and sell it. Mr. Magruder was a fatherly figure to the girls, helping them get accustomed to the city life. Apparently, they got the hang of that quickly and became quite the talk of the town. There is a story of the cops getting called on one of their parties but no one getting in trouble because they just decided to stay and enjoy themselves. In 1942 or 43 she met a handsome, clarinet playing elevator attendant who she later married. She remembers going dancing with Bob and their friends, and learning to bowl. "We sure had a lot of fun," she told me. I can only imagine, Grandma!

Bob and Jean had three kids and moved to the suburban community of Lakewood, just north of Long Beach. Bob died in the early 1960s and Jean had to find work. One of the women in the neighborhood suggested she get work at the new Hughes Aircraft factory. "Jean, you should get a job there," she remembers her friend telling her, "they'll hire anybody!" "I had never even held a screwdriver, but they put me on the line," she told me. She quickly was promoted to a line supervisor, a position she really liked because she got to know everyone on the line. I laughed when she said that, that's a trait I see very much through the generations of our family. When her kids were teenagers she was transferred into the office as a receptionistt, another job she loved because of the people she worked with. My mom remembers her baking a dessert for the office every Friday and the friends she made in that office led her into golf and travel, two passions that sustained her through the decades after her kids left home.

Jean traveled independently well into 80s and lived mostly by herself in the house she raised her kids in until well after her 90th birthday. I see now that those traits that made her such a stern grandmother served her well in her adventure filled life. She was never afraid to do something she wanted to do, and was willing to take care of her friends even as her own health began to fade. She now lives with her oldest granddaughter and her family and though she moves a little slower than she used to, and can sometimes be forgetful or confused, she is still the independent, sassy, clever woman she always was. She was no saint, but she sure is a cool woman to have in my family background.

Birthdays by Robert William Service

Let us have birthdays every day,
(I had the thought while I was shaving)
Because a birthday should be gay,
And full of grace and good behaving.
We can't have cakes and candles bright,
And presents are beyond our giving,
But let lt us cherish with delight
The birthday way of lovely living.

For I have passed three-score and ten
And I can count upon my fingers
The years I hope to bide with men,
(Though by God's grace one often lingers.)
So in the summers left to me,
Because I'm blest beyond my merit,
I hope with gratitude and glee
To sparkle with the birthday spirit.

Let me inform myself each day
Who's proudmost on the natal roster;
If Washington or Henry Clay,
Or Eugene Field or Stephen Foster.
oh lots of famous folks I'll find
Who more than measure to my rating,
And so thanksgivingly inclined
Their birthdays I'll be celebrating.

For Oh I know the cheery glow|
Of Anniversary rejoicing;
Let me reflect its radiance so
My daily gladness I'll be voicing.
And though I'm stooped and silver-haired,
Let me with laughter make the hearth gay,
So by the gods I may be spared
Each year to hear: "Pop, Happy Birthday."

This year is my 31st birthday. By the time Jean was my age she had left everything she ever knew in Nebraska to travel with friends and later move to The Big City. She worked and played hard and had met a man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Another Virgo friend of mine noted that I have a prime number age this year. "It's like being a human fortress," she said. "Just try to divide me by anything but myself or one!" I think Jean spent most of her life being a prime number human fortress and I think I am going to strive for that myself this year. I've got student teaching coming up this year and a job search in a scary economy. Being indivisible except by myself and 1 sounds like a pretty good way to step into year 31.

Is it Golden Autumn where you are yet? Is your birthday a big holiday for you or just something you let slip by? Why? Are your grandparents role models for you in any special way? Are you ready for sweater weather? Happy September!!

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New Nesting Moon 2009: Breathe a Sigh of Relief

New Nesting Moon 2010: Ramadan

New Nesting Moon 2011: The Book of Nature

The Full Nesting Moon post for 2009, Hey.. it's my Birfday, is also about my birthday and the Full Harvest Moon 2010 post mentions both my birthday and my crazy family.

The photos are all of my grandmother. The first is Jean fishing in 1939 and the second is Jean with Bob (on the left) and her brother and his wife (on the right) at the Pike in Long Beach in 1948. The third was taken in 1966 after her husband died but before all three kids had moved out of the house.

The Book of Nature

2011-09-02T11:49:00.000-07:00

New Nesting Moon
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When I was 21 I began observing the moon. I was well versed in the natural history and geology of my environment, but was woefully ignorant of how the sun and the moon cycles worked. Maybe I was inspired by the months on end of clear skies in Southern Oregon or maybe it was my continuing interest in nature based spirituality. Maybe it was God tapping me on the shoulder and pointing her finger at something I should check out. Whatever it was, I faithfully watched the moon for cycle after cycle that year.

What I found amazed me. I was enthralled by the shapes the moon takes, the patterns on its surface and the relationship between the moon and the sun. I watched the moon wax and wane, and also found myself watching the seasons wax and wane. I saw the sunset move up and down the crest of the hills and the angle of light rise and fall with the seasons. I felt how the earth seems to wake up, be full, release its energy and then hibernate as the seasons wax and wane like the moon herself. I kept watching, kept observing month after month, year after year. The rhythms of day, month, season and year started to feel natural and deep, like my own heart beat and breathing.

I have felt God's presence in nature for much longer than I have ever felt it anywhere else. I knew the liturgy of growing plants long before I knew any church liturgy and heard God's voice in song birds and streams long before I heard it in a meeting for worship. Today, my primary language for accessing God is still the language of the living earth and especially of the natural rhythms of the sun and the moon. I see all life moving in these cycles, from the compact and huddled seed in winter, to the shooting growth of spring, the fullness and flowering of summer into the dissipating, conserving, slowing comfort of autumn. Gardens, creative projects, human lives and even civilizations move in these cycles. Breathing into these cycles, living fully in them and allowing them to unfold seems to me to be the best, highest and closest to God way to live my life.

Our culture seems to be an always on, always up, always growing kind of culture. But do you remember what cells that don't stop growing are called? Cancer. Plants that don't stop growing, like kudzu or English Ivy, are choking weeds. Sun that doesn't stop shining creates deserts like the lifeless land of the planet Venus. I feel deep in my bones that cycles of growth and constriction allow a chance for starting over, for assessing the last period of growth and for resting. I know God is in all parts of this cycle. I feel her in the pruning and contracting of autumn just as much as in the growth and light of spring. God is even in the hibernation and death of winter. God, my mother, knows and loves me through all parts of the cycle. God, my father, uses the cycle to encourage me to grow and challenge myself. The book of nature and the book of time are, to me, the fullest and most beautiful books God has written to help me navigate my life. And all I have to do is watch.

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This post was inspired by both my Quaker Meeting's literary journal query for the Autumn and a Rob Breszny horoscope from a couple weeks ago. The query is "How have you experienced god's presence in nature?" (which I chuckled at a bit - I've been writing about that twice a month for three years and still haven't exhausted all I could write about) and the horoscope is below:

Storyteller Clarissa Pinkola Estes loves life's natural rhythms just as they are. She says we can avoid a lot of suffering if we understand how those rhythms work. "The cycles are birth, light, and energy, and then depletion, decline, and death," she told Radiance magazine. In other words, everything thrives and fades, thrives and fades. After each phase of dissipation, new vitality incubates and blooms again. According to my analysis of the astrological omens, Virgo, you are currently going through a period of dwindling and dismantling. The light is dimmer than usual, and the juice is sparser. But already, in the secret depths, a new dispensation is stirring.

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New Nesting Moon 2009: Breathe a Sigh of Relief

New Nesting Moon 2010: Ramadan

My Summer Solstince/Pagan Value's Blogging Month post from this summer is on a similar theme of cycles in nature: Circles, Cycles and Pulses: Pagan Values Blogging Month

Courage, Bullying and Ramadan

2011-08-28T17:49:00.000-07:00

The Old Father's Moon

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Eid Mubarak! The holy month of Ramadan is closing and the Muslim world is celebrating Eid ul Fitr, a massive celebration of family and festivities. People all over the world have been buying new clothes and even new furniture, preparing huge meals and readying gifts for family and neighbors. They will spend anywhere from one to five days visiting family, hosting feasts and distributing gifts to celebrate the end of the holy month of fasting. I get the feeling it's kind of like Christmas as far as a party season is concerned.

Over this last month I have been collecting and sharing stories about the different kinds of people in the world who are Muslim. I have read about the Muslim people of Senegal, Indonesia, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Syria, Iran, Pakistan, Iraq, Detroit, Los Angeles and many many others. I have read about their food customs (and eaten a number of delicious date concoctions - check out My Halal Kitchen's Dates and Cream), their daily life during Ramadan and their special religious ceremonies during the month. As I read, I kept in mind the charge I set myself at the beginning of the month, to be mindful of God-in-People. A query I asked "Do I speak to and answer “that of God” in everyone?"

One of the things I came to realize as I read these stories is that we as a species can be quite awful to each other. We are very bad at realizing and respecting that of God in each other. I learned a lot of stories about people being oppressed, persecuted and outright killed because of their cultural affiliation. I read about the Uiygar people who's lands were invaded by the Han Chinese in the early 20th century and have been oppressed religious and ethnic minorities ever since. Recent years have seen resistance violence in their Central Asian capitol which has resulted in harsh bans on practicing their Muslim faith. I read about the Kurdish people who, after World War I, had their ancestral lands split between Turkey, Syria and Iraq. Their cultural identity has been actively suppressed by the Turkish government and the government of Saddam Hussain in Iraq. Their language has been outlawed, political organizing harshly crushed and even entire male populations of villages killed. I read about the Mughal invasion of northern India, where the new Muslim rulers felt justified in destroying Hindu religious sites because they were heathen, and modern laws and attitudes in Europe and America that make being a Muslim difficult and dangerous. Of course, stories of oppressors and oppressed are not limited to the Muslim world, but it was a theme that came up again and again.

The pastor at my Quaker meeting gave a sermon about bullpuckey, as he called it, the other week. He was specifically talking about bullpucky about Jesus and how Quakers stand in a unique place to see through, and speak up against bullpucky because of our belief in silent worship, personal connection with the divine and speaking truth to power. In worship, I thought a lot about a faith and values based anti-bullying program I heard about recently where the main focus is on helping bystanders to bullying find the courage to speak up. The thing that connects the bullpucky my pastor was talking about and the bullpucky of bullying is power, and writ large the bullpucky of those in power leads to the kind of oppression I see in my study of Muslim cultures. Whether oppressing or being oppressed, misuse of power, cultural bullying and disrespect of human life and dignity is a big pile of bullpucky.

What can we do about this cultural bullying, this disrespect for humanity? Paul Coughlin, the founder of the anti-bullying program The Protectors, says that the most powerful player in the theater of bullying is the bystander. Bullies do what they do because no one stands up to them, no one points out their disrespectful behavior, no one has the courage to say "stop!". A study quoted by Paul Coughlin's group says that 58% of bullying incidents end within just a few seconds of a bystander speaking up for the victim. Whether his numbers are true or not, and whether this study can be scaled up to culture wide bullying, I don't know. I do know, however, that we must do everything we can to shed light on oppression, bullying and bullpucky everywhere.

The Father's Moon energies ask us to think about how we can be mature adults as we interact with our community to make it a better place. How can we keep our community safe, how can we encourage community members to be better people? How can our own resources and gifts be used for the greater good? There are so many things going wrong with our communities that it is easy to get overwhelmed. It is easy to ignore the bullpucky, easy to let the bullies set the agenda. Courage is required to be a good father, and courage is required to use the Father's moon energies to speak up for those who need a champion. I'm not saying I'm any good at any of this, but I'm saying I feel a new call to be mindful of it.

The 10th Anniversary of 9/11 is coming up in the next week and I worry that with heightened emotions there will be extra bullpucky about Muslims, about war and about our cultural bullying. I wonder what I can do to be a courageous bystander.

What did you learn about Islam and Muslim people this Ramadan? I'd love to hear your stories or thoughts. Have you ever found the courage to stand up against bullying, oppression or other forms of bullpucky? What's your favorite recipe using dates? Eid Mubarak!

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This post is not for the Full Father's moon and it is not for the New Nesting Moon, it is for the old Father's Moon. Here are links to other Ramadan posts, which is the main theme of this post. Use the tag for "Father's Moon" to see other New and Full Father's Moon posts from years past.

Ramadan 2010: Ramadan and End of Ramadan

Ramadan 2011: Blessed Ramadan and Ramadan Postings 2011

Photos by Carmen Alonso Suarez, DMahendra, DVIDSHUB and zz77. Please check out their photos on Flickr.

Ramadan Postings 2011

2011-08-28T12:43:00.000-07:00

As with last year, I collected stories about Muslim people, culture and history and shared them on my Facebook page. Here are my postings from Ramadan 2011.

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Did you know that Ramadan, the holy month of Islam, begins with the next sighting of the new moon tomorrow or the next day? Like last year, I will be exploring Islam, Muslims and Ramadan as the month goes on. What would you like to know?

1.5 billion Muslims begin celebrating the holy month of Ramadan this weekend. Lets take some time this month to learn something new about this religion, the people who practice it and their many cultures. And keep the people of Libya, Syria, Ethiopia, Afghanistan, Yemen, Iraq and so many more in your thoughts this month.. and all months.

Fasting for Ramadan begins the day after the first sighting of the new crescent moon, which could be seen last night. Today is the first day people all over the world are abstaining from food, water, smoking and a few other things for all daylight hours. Instead, they will spend their time praying and reading the Koran. Ramadan Mubarak!

Ramadan Mubarak! A Flickr blog.

In addition to refraining from eating, drinking, smoking and having sex, Muslims who fast during Ramadan also refrain from immoral behavior such as lying, speaking in anger, fighting or talking behind someone's back. How often can we refrain from those behaviors?

A Muslim Voices blog post about zakat, or charity. This is one of the five pillars of islam and especially important during Ramadan.

Indonesia is the world's most populous majority Muslim country. People joke that Ramadan is more of a feasting month than a fasting month in Indonesia because of all the family dinners and street bazaars that happen in the evening hours. Rice dumplings steamed in young coconut leaves, called ketupat, are a specialty this time of year.

A Boston.com photo gallery of Ramadan around the world.

40% of the population of Bosnia and Herzegovina, or 1.8 million people are Muslim. They have been a part of this area's culture since the Ottomon rule beginning in the 1450s. Bosniaks, as they call themselves, celebrate Ramadan with savory filled dumplings called pita and baklava and singing games and competitions.

Last Ramadan, monsoon flooding in Pakistan (the world's second largest majority Muslim population) left 11 million people homeless. Giving charity or zakat is an important part of Ramadan celebrations all over the world, but especially in Pakistan. So are pakoras, or fried vegetable fritters.

A Washington Post slide show of photos of people celebrating Ramadan.

Senegal is a small country on the far west coast of Africa where 90% of the population is Muslim. Islam first came to Senegal in the 11th century but spread rapidly in the 19th century. Today, most Senegalese are Sufi, a mystical branch of Islam. Senegalese like to break their Ramadan fast with pastries and coffee before going to evening prayers.

There are around 2 million African-American Muslims in our country. Islam is attractive to many African Americans both because of the Islamic heritage of West Africa and also for the explicitly non-racist attitude of Islamic theology. Islam, like other world religions, is a wide and deep pool that people of all colors and backgrounds have found meaning in.

"Imam Shareef says there is a strong connection between African-Americans' historic struggle for freedom and equality since the end of slavery in the 1860s, and the Islamic tradition of seeking spiritual freedom. Ramadan, he says, is a chance for Black Muslims in America to remember that." For African American Muslims, Ramadan has Special Meaning.

"President Obama’s may be one of the more highly publicized Ramadan dinners at the White House, we have a teenage Chelsea Clinton to thank for the tradition — a young American willing to study cultures outside her own." The story.

In 1958 Ramadan, Passover and Easter all coincided. Here is a vintage Toledo Blade article about celebrations in Jerusalem.

In Morocco, like in other Muslim countries, traffic patterns change dramatically during Ramadan. People rush home in the early evening to get home in time to break their fast with their family, often causing traffic jams and frayed tempers. In Morocco, after breaking their fast with dates and milk, families will eat a hearty dinner of harira (lentil soup), hard boiled eggs and briouats (meat pastries).

98% of the 75 million people in Iran are Muslim and 90% of those are Shia (or Shiite) Muslims. Originally, the split between Shia and Sunni Muslims (who make up the vast majority of Muslims today) was a political one based on succession of leadership after the death of the prophet Muhammad. Both groups fast through ramadan, and reshteh-khoshar, a spiced cookie with walnuts and rice flour, is a favorite in Iran for iftar. .

The partition of Pakistan from India in 1947 happened along religious lines but there are still over 138 million Muslims in India. Islam is most common in the north and east of the country, but the southern state of Kerala had a Muslim population since the 7th century AD. Pathiri, a rice flour griddle cake, are a specialty of Muslims in Kerala and a must for Ramadan. A recipe.

Fordson High in Dearborne MI is again holding preseason practices at night to accommodate fasting players. Faith, family and football at its best! The New York Times article.

In the town of Habbaniya Cece, Christians, Muslims, Arabs, Kurds, Sunnis and Shiites all coexisted for decades. That changed as Al Qaeda began to take hold in Anbar Province. “It was strangers who came and made trouble, trying to plant something between us. But we’re living together now, there’s no problem,” caretaker of the Shiite mosque Khadem Owaid said. This is history for us, says final Christian family.

Tonight is the full moon which means we are halfway through Ramadan. Fasting for Ramadan is one of the five pillars of Islam, can you name any one of the other four?

A video in which Muslims explain What Do You Think People Most Misunderstand about Islam? Very powerful.

""When accused of terrorism we are Muslims, when killed by looters, we become Asian", a Muslim student explained to me....Most important to emphasise is the extent to which everyone in Tower Hamlets was a beneficiary of streetwise, smart Muslims acting swiftly to protect shops, businesses and communities against looters." Muslims tackle looters, bigots, an Al Jazeera English opinion piece.

Islam is the second largest religion in the United Kingdom with over 2.5 million adherents of many different ethnicities. Islam has been known in England for centuries, one of Chaucer's pilgrims in Canterbury Tales was well versed in Islamic scholarship and Shakespeare's Othello was a Moor, possibly an African or Arab Muslim. Ramadan Festival UK is sponsoring events all over the country this month, including feeding homeless people, music festivals and house parties.

""Ramadan is all about training your self-discipline in order to be a better person," said Habehh, who has made it her Ramadan mission this year to focus on educating families about the importance of foster care in the Muslim community.... Children are exempt from the fast until they reach puberty, but many younger children are eager to imitate their parents and older siblings by taking part in the tradition." In Muslim families, kids want to join Ramadan fast, good deeds.

"The group’s members — Tyson, Kumasi, Erik Rico and Anas Canon — are all Muslims who aim to inspire with a positive message of beauty, faith and tolerance. Dubbing themselves “hip-hop ambassadors of the 21st century,” Remarkable Current was invited to tour the country at the behest of the US State Department as part of a performing arts initiative." Rap Ambassadors Spread the Word in Jakarta.

Islam came to Syria in 640AD when the area was conquered by a companion of the prophet Muhammad. Today, 86% of the country is Muslim including both Sunni and Shi'a communities. Like in other Muslim countries, Ramadan is a time for fasting, praying and charity but also a time for family and food. Evenings are often spent playing cards or backgammon, and sweets like knafeh, a pastry of semolina flour with cheese and sugar syrup, are a favorite.

Arabic is the language the Koran is written in, and thus is considered holy to Muslims. Arabic, like Hebrew, is written from right to left and uses mostly consonants with marks to denote vowels rather than letters. People actually learn two different varieties of Arabic, Modern Standard Arabic, the language of media and scholarship, and their local dialect. Over 280 million people in over 26 countries are native Arabic speakers.

Sunset in Portland tonight is at 8:20pm. At the beginning of Ramadan the evening prayers, Magrhib, occurred at 8:40 and at the end of the month they will occur at 7:55pm. Autumn is upon is, and so is Eid! Have you been noticing the sunset? Doing anything special to commemorate it?

The Philippines is a predominantely Catholic country but there have been Muslims in the area since the early 1400s AD. One region in particular, southern Mindanao, has a significant Muslim population even today. The Muslim people are referred to as Moros, a word related to the Spanish word moor. House cleaning and tending to family graves are important parts of Ramadan in Mindanao.

Abdul Rashid Abdullah, scoutmaster of Troop 786, said the Islamic faith and Boy Scouts of America are harmonious in philosophy and in practice. "The Islamic ideals and the scouting ideals are the same. They're compatible," he said. "I can easily talk about the scout law and talk about Koranic verses that co-relate to those scout laws, so it makes it really easy." Muslim community embraces scouting, a CNN story.

The rebels in Libya are flying a flag of red, black and green to replace the solid green flag of Gaddafi's Libya. Green is a special color in Islam, said to represent life and nature and was the color of the prophet Muhammad's banner. 90% of Libya's population lives in 10% of its land, close to the coast which is the longest along the African Mediterranean coast. A Libyan food blog post about fritters in syrup, a Ramadan specialty.

"At the crowded Los Feliz diner, Abedin and the soon-to-be fasters were crammed into two booths, men and women side-by-side. They scanned the large menu... The waiter — a man named Achilles with a braided ponytail and a black T-shirt that read "Friends don't let friends get married" — asked about drink orders. But the group was ready for food, mindful that dawn would break at 4:30 that morning." Adapting Ramadan to the All American Diner, in the Los Angeles Times.

An Al Jazeera English video about the football team at Fordson High in Detroit. They practiced during the middle of the night to accommodate fasting students but just switched back to daytime practices. A cool look at Muslim kids and teachers who look and sound just like any other American football team.

The Uyghur people (pronounced "weeger") are a Turkic speaking group from Xinjiang region of Central Asia who have practiced Islam for over a thousand years. In the 19th century their homeland was invaded by Han Chinese and today, like neighboring Tibet, they face great political and religious restrictions imposed by the Chinese government. In fact, the Chinese government is actively repressing the practice of fasting for Ramadan after resistance violence in recent years. No Ramadan for Uighur Muslims.

A repost from last year about female imams in China's Henan Province.

The Kurds have been called the largest ethnic group in the world without their own state. After the US invasion of Iraq the northern portion of that country has been a virtually autonomous Kurdistan but the Kurds of Turkey are still persecuted. The holiday at the end of Ramadan is called jezhn and is celebrated with family, feasting and new clothes like in most other Muslim cultures. Kulicha, a sweet fried dough with a filling of dates, nuts or coconut is a popular jezhn treat. Anthony Bourdain's episode about Kurdistan on this season's No Reservations was really informative and well done.

Birdsong brings relief to my longing
I'm just as ecstatic as they are, but with nothing to say!
Please universal soul, practice some song or something through me!
Jelaluddin Rumi was born in what is today Afghanistan in 1207. He became a Muslim teacher and judge and later an ecstatic Sufi poet. He wrote in the Persian language and is considered a major cultural hero in Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan and Turkey. More Rumi poetry in translation.

Muslims believe that the Quran was revealed to the Prophet Muhammad by the Angel Jibril starting on Lailatul Qadr', a night during the last 10 days of Ramadan. No one is sure what the exact date is, but it is generally believed to be one of the odd dates in the last weeks of the month. The Quran says that night is worth a thousand months, so many Muslims spend extra time in prayer.

Eid Mubarak! Eid ul-Fitr is the first day of the Shawwal and the end of Ramadan. It is celebrated as a huge holiday all over the Muslim world and occurs today! Many people celebrate by dressing in new clothes and attending prayers at a mosque, inviting family and friends over for a meal and then going visiting. What are you celebrating today? What have you discovered over the course of Ramadan? Photos of Eid celebrations from around the world.

Eid is a week long national holiday in Qatar. People travel home to be with their family, wear new clothes, have fresh hair cuts and even buy new furniture to show how special the holiday is. It is typical to give gifts of food to the poor, of sweets and money to children and other items to everyone else you meet. Cooked lamb and rice is a tradition Eid dish, and like with Ramadan iftars, sweets of all kinds can be found.

A lovely blog post by a woman in Baghdad about what Eid looks like there. A Day of Eid in Baghdad.

Since the Islamic calendar is lunar, rather than solar, each month begins when the moon is sighted.... but when the moon is sighted depends on where you are in the world, the weather conditions, whether you can use a telescope or not or whether you can use astronomical calculations. This means Eid starts in different places depending on the regional customs. NPR's report on determining when Eid begins.

Iftar dates or a glass of cabernet? A wonderful piece by Caroline Jaine on Muslim Voices.

As Eid celebrations continue all over the world marking the end of Ramadan, I ask you to keep thinking about the people of the Muslim world. They are not a monolithic group and I hope that we can continue to see people for their actions and aspirations, not just their religious or cultural affiliation. What have you learned this Ramadan? What will you be thinking about as we move into this autumn? Eid During the Arab Spring.

Fathering, Missions and the Father's Moon

2011-08-23T13:18:00.000-07:00

Full Father's Moon

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JUNIPERO'S mode of life in his mission never varied He rose with the dawn He seemed to require little sleep The greater portion of the night he passed in prayer.

At sunrise he said mass and afterwards distributed breakfast to his neophytes This task he always refused to delegate to others. His Indians were well-fed and well-cared for. He found time to cut out all the shirts and petticoats needed in the missions and all the little garments worn by the children. During stated hours in the mornings and afternoons he instructed the Indians in the doctrines and observances of the church. In the intervals he taught the women to sew and superintended the labors of the men, tucking up his shabby friar's frock to work himself, the better to show his pupils and to stimulate them to habits of industry by the force of his example. He was always kind to the neophytes although he did not hesitate to punish them whenever he deemed punishment necessary. He refused to overlook, even in the newest converts, the slightest lapse from the strict code of morals he insisted upon, nor would he pardon the least carelessness or neglect in church attendance or observances.

In spite of this severity the neophytes were devoted to him. They saw that he exacted from them no duty which he did not exact from himself with far greater rigor, that the punishments he inflicted upon his own delicate body surpassed severity anything to which they were subjected. An intuition which belongs alike to children and savages taught them that in Junipero they had not teacher only, but a friend, a brother, and champion.

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I'm late in posting my full Father's Moon post because I was on vacation for a week in Southern California, visiting family. My sister and I traveled together and had a great time. We went to the Santa Monica Pier, swam in the ocean at Corona del Mar, visited the Natural History Museum and ate as much ethnic food as we could pack into our five days (I believe the final count was 9 restaurants representing 6 cuisines).

One of the highlights of the trip for me was our visit to Mission San Gabriel, the fourth of 21 Spanish Missions built in the 18th century in south and Central California. The missions in Alta California, as the area was called in late 1700s, were begun by Father Junipero Serra. Serra was born in Majorca in 1713 and studied theology and philosophy as a priest and lecturer at the University in Majorca. When he was 36 years old he left his home to work as a missionary in Mexico where he worked both among the Indians and in Mexico City for almost 20 years. In 1768 he was appointed the Father Presidente of the Missions in Baja California and in 1770 founded the Mission San Diego in what is today a city that bears that same name. He founded missions all along the California coast for the rest of his life, working to convert Indians and turn the land around the missions into productive farms.

Mission San Gabriel, 9 miles east of downtown Los Angeles (the original Mexican settlement of Los Angeles was an secular outgrowth of the mission), is as stunningly beautiful as any of the other missions. It's exterior walls are a warm and lovely golden sand color and its interior a series of shady gardens and cool, dark buildings. It is reknown for its campanario, a wall with six bells in it and its elegant capped buttresses and tall narrow windows showing the influence Spanish Moors had even half a world away. Inside the church are 18th century paintings by a Native American artist of the stations of the cross, wooden statues carved in Mexico and a copper babtismal that has seen more than 25,000 baptisms. Mission San Gabriel is also the final resting place of over 6,000 Native Americans, and is the eipicenter of the cultural destruction of the Tongva/Gabrielino Indians. Even today the Tongva people are fighting for federal recognition, for respectful treatment of their cultural artifacts and preservation of their traditional lands.

Father Junipero Serra was a perfect incarnation of the energies of the Father's Moon and so my mixed emotions about him are quite fitting. He was a loving but stern figure, very conscious of the need to train his followers, both Spanish and Native. He was very much a man of his era and had no notion of the multiculturalism and relativism that are hallmarks of our own time. He believe in right and wrong, good and evil, heaven and hell, and he knew the correct path to take to become the right kind of person. Annette Hinshaw notes that humans tend to resent fathering, even as we realize that it is important to our own growth. She also reminds us that the role of the father requires commanding respect, not necessarily love or even affection.

As I've traveled this summer I've gotten to see a number of my friends and family members as they act as fathers. One of my friends is the gentlest, most loving father I've ever met and genuinely dotes on his daughters. He has a hard time being a disciplinarian and his 6 year old knows it. Another friend seems overwhelmed by economic hardships and, though I know he loves his kids, seems less able to love and laugh with them. My cousins I was staying with in L.A. are Mormon and the father of that family seems so balanced and comfortable in his role as a father. I wonder how much his religion's traditional views on fatherhood actually give him clear role models and standards to live up to in his fathering. He works full time but comes home to his family full of laughter, encouragement and the ability to be the disciplinary backbone of the household. I love getting to watch my friends grow into this so very difficult role. They are good men and they are growing good kids through their fathering.

I think that Father Junipero Serra thought he was doing the right thing and that he can serve as both a model and warning to us as we navigate the treacherous pathways of manifesting the Father's Moon energies. He worked alongside his flock but was confident in his role as a leader. He delighted in giving them gifts but knew they had to do their own work as well. As my sister and I were leaving the Mission we passed the large bronze statue of Fra Serra and stopped for a moment. "He thought he was doing the right thing," my sister said. "I hope history judges me for my intentions," I said. From his own point of view, Father Serra really was just trying to be a good father.

What do you think makes a good father? When have you experienced excellent fathering, whether from your biological parent or someone else? Have you ever been to a California Mission? What historical figures do you think are excellent father figures? How is your summer going?

The quoted story is from Junipero Serra; A Man and His Work by A.H. Fitch. Click on the link there to access the google books version, or check out another online version here. Old Father's Journey by Beulah Karney is another story about Junipero Serra, told from a more modern, but still favoriable, point of view. Steven W. Hackel's article at Common-Place.org is much more critical, and a very interesting read.

For more pictures from my trip to Mission San Gabriel, check my flickr page.

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Full Father's Moon 2009: The Aftermark of Almost Too Much Love
This is one of my favorite posts... check it out and read an awesome Robert Frost poem.

Full Father's Moon 2010: Robin Hood

An August Journey

2011-08-11T21:53:00.000-07:00

August Eve

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August is here! It is the time in the Wheel of the Year when the Father God sacrifices himself again so that all life may continue to live. It is the time of the first harvests, yellowing grass, ripening fruits and the shorter but hotter dog days. It is the time of manly and physical energies, of Lugh and Osiris, Adonis and Jesus as he fights, lives and dies for his beloved (that would be you, me and all of creation!). Each of these deities go on a journey, leaving their life behind and traveling into death only to reemerge alive again. August is a time for all kinds of journeys, mythical and physical, magical and mundane, godly and very, very human.

One of Portlander's favorite ways to spend a hot summer day is to float down one of our many beautiful rivers. On the weekend closest to August Eve I set out with my sister and a couple friends to float down the Clackamas, a river named after one of the original native peoples of the area. It flows down off the slopes of Mt. Hood through old growth forest and lush farmland into the Willamette, the river in the center of Portland itself. It is a beautiful river that runs swift and clean for many miles just outside the Portland metro area.

The day started out like any other hero's journey, with a call to adventure. This happened to take the form of some phone calls and text messages, but hey, even hero's are subject to 21st century technology. After acquiring our tubes, some river safe sandals and sustenance for the trip we were off!

By the time we finally arrived, packed our backpacks, blew up our tubes and slathered on the sunscreen we were very, very ready for the river. Our first challenge was to face the threshold monster in the rapids right after the boat ramp. We were hardly wet yet and the rapids looked very, very scary. I believe I screamed "we are all going to die" repeatedly as the current took my tube and sloshed it down the rapids. We did not die but were rewarded with a lovely deep pool and rocks to jump off of right after the rapids.

Onwards we went, paddling or floating, through rapids and calm water. It was a beautiful warm day and the water was pleasantly cool, but not too frigid. We saw trout in the river and vultures, bald eagles and osprey overhead. I love how fully immersed in the river you have to be when tubing, both literally and psychologically. The rapids on this stretch of the Clackamas are not so dangerous that doing them on an inflatable tube is foolhardy, but they do pose a genuine risk if you treat them flippantly. You have to watch the water, choose your line through the rapid and paddle your body appropriately to avoid hitting rocks or overhanging trees. One friend banged an elbow pretty bad on one rapid and my sister got tossed arse over teakettle in another. I hit my bottom hard on a rock, but luckily it is well padded and no one was seriously hurt. It makes me feel really alive to feel the river like that, to be so fully engaged with the physics of the universe.

We had a wonderful time, horsing around and enjoying the sights until someone asked if we had passed the pull out where our car was. Oh no. We asked some other rafters if we were past McIver park and they laughed at us. Yup. Crap. In an inspired moment of group-think, the four of us decided to deflate our rafts and head up the bank of the river towards the highway, which we assumed would be close. Like Odysseus facing Charybdis and Scylla or Luke Skywalker and the rebel fighters battling AT-AT walkers on Hoth, we valiantly fought that river side slope. It was covered in blackberries and stinging nettle. We lost sandals in knee deep mud and fell off fallen logs. We were sure we could make it all on our own!

But then we couldn't. We realized that we were not going to get out of this with only our own abilities and wits. Frodo finally decided to trust Gollum and we decided that we were going to have to trust the river and the luck of the hitchhiker to get back home. We re-inflated our tubes and headed on to whatever we might find downriver. Lady Luck was faithful and sent us a guy with a truck to bring us up to the highway from the boat ramp. We walked along the road for a while, worried that we would have to hike the whole way back but then, joy of joys, a car pulled over! It was another river floater who had been picked up by a hitchhiker herself earlier in the day. She drove us all the way back to our car with a smile and a kind word for our weary crew.

Our hero's journey ended, like all good rituals, with a feast cooked over an open fire. We grilled hamburgers and sat on the deck, aching, stinging and sunburned but happy. We had faced the challenges and, with the help of some luck and blessing, made it out alive and better for it. August in Portland is a magical time, and our day on the river was a perfect way to start it off.

What journeys have you made this summer? Which male deity is your favorite and why? When have you ever trusted and had your trust repaid with a boon? How did you spend August Eve this year? What rivers are near your house and how do you enjoy them? Happy beginning of the harvest season!

Photos by brx0, Tom Clifton and Matt.Picio. Click on the photos or on their names to see more of their Clackamas River photos and other photography. Thanks!

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August Eve 2009: August Eve In the Woods!

August Eve 2010: August Eve, The Subtle Turning

This post is also about the Hero's Journey, which I also discuss in the post from this past Journey Moon, Perseus and the Journey Moon.

Blessed Ramadan

2011-08-03T08:28:00.000-07:00

The New Father's Moon

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Once again, the holy month of Ramadan is upon us. Ramadan Mubarak!

Last year I posted about my growing concern about how Islam and Muslims are viewed in America and the West in general. I spent a thoughtful and fruitful month collecting information about Islam and Ramadan and sharing it with my close and distant circle of friends in person and electronically. It is Ramadan again, and again I feel the call to spend the month learning and sharing what I find.

Fire

O Marvel! a garden amidst the flames.
My heart has become capable of every form:
it is a pasture for gazelles and a convent for Christian monks,
and a temple for idols and a pilgrim's Ka'bah,
and the tables of the Torah and the book of the Qur'an.
I follow the relition of Love: whatever way Love's camels take,
that is my religion and my faith.

Ibn Arabi

It has been an exciting year for the Islamic world and a hard one. Revolutions in Egypt and Tunisia are changing the way people in North Africa and the Middle East view their governments and their societies. People continue to struggle for political reform in Yemen, Syria, Palestine and many other places. The struggle has turned to outright war in Libya, and Sudan is probably just in a lull in its long standing civil war. Famine grips Somalia and Ethiopia and the ancient battles in Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan and northern India continue on in their modern forms. Muslims in Europe and North America continue their struggle for economic freedom and acceptance in antagonistic cultures. I can only imagine it must be a difficult time for many Muslims around the world. I know that I can make a difference by helping other people learn about the religion of Islam, get some perspective on the current events in the Muslim world and understand more of Muslim world history.

This year my Ramadan call feels strongly about the people and cultures of the Muslim world. About 1.5 billion people, 20% of the world's population are Muslim. The Muslim world stretches from Morocco to Pakistan to China, Indonesia, the US and northern Europe. Muslims have black skin, blond hair, brown skin, Asian faces and every other kind of face imaginable. People are Muslim in sandy deserts, lush tropical rain forests, temperate mountains and high, windy plateaus. Like with all religions, people continue to practice their local traditions in addition to Islam leading to various versions even of the same basic activities. So many different cultures, so many different kinds of people.

Allah

I tried to find Him on the Christian cross, but He
was not there; I went to the Temple of the
Hindus and to the old pagodas, but I could not
find a trace of Him anywhere.

I searched on the mountains and in the valleys
but neither in the heights nor in the depths was I
able to find Him. I went to the Ka'bah in Mecca,
but He was not there either.

I questioned the scholars and philosophers but
He was beyond their understanding.

I then looked into my heart and it was there
where He dwelled that I saw Him; He was
nowhere else to be found.

Jalaluddin Rumi

As a billion and a half Muslims around the world spend this month of Ramadan fasting and praying in order to be closer to God, I will spend it getting closer to God-In-People. I will spend time studying the cultures of the world and and also the cultures in my own neighborhood. I will cherish and cultivate my relationships with people I already know and love, and cultivate and open heart towards the people I do not already know. Again this year I will sit with queries from the North Pacific Yearly Meeting's Faith and Practices: Do I speak to and answer “that of God” in everyone? Am I charitable with others? Do I practice the art of listening to others, even beyond words? What will you be thinking about during this bright yellow August month when so many others are fasting, praying, feasting and playing?

Blessed Ramadan!

Images by Zolashine, JakeBrewer, Mizrak and NewMediaNormaRae. Click on their names or the photos for more of their amazing work. Thank you!

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New Father's Moon 2009: New Father's Moon

New Father's Moon 2010: Fourth of July

This post is about Ramadan, as are my posts from last August, Ramadan and The End of Ramadan.

Krishna and the Gopis

2011-07-19T13:08:00.000-07:00

The Mother's Moon

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It was a summer evening, long ago and far away. On the outskirts of a village, Krishna, the dark skinned, laughing eyed Preceptor of the Universe, Bestower of Boons, Eternal Lord, played his flute as the sun sank in the west. He knew that the milkmaids of the village, the gopis, would hear his flute and heed its call. He knew they would come and dance, come and play, come and be with him in the moonlight.

Sure enough, as each gopi heard the flute she left what she was doing without looking back. Some left dishes still dirty, or butter unchurned. Some even left mothers in mid conversation or food to burn on the stove. The call of Krishna's flute was strong and they couldn't resist, they didn't want to resist.

Out into the forest they ran, into a clearing where Krishna stood with his flute. He was beautiful to look at and each gopi felt he was looking right at them. They began to dance around him, their ankle bells tinkling, their saris waving. He played his flute and the gopis danced. Some waved their arms in the air, some spun in circles and some bent their knees and waist, swaying with the flute music. The flowers decorating their neck and ears scenting the air and the gopis reached for their Lord of All Senses. As they reached for him he reached back, expanding himself to meet each gopi individually. Each gopi placed her hands on his shoulder and Krisna placed his hands on each gopi's shoulder. They smiled at him and their eyes twinkled at him. He laughed out loud, delighted with their delight. They danced and danced, waving their wrists, stamping their feet and twirling in the moonlight.

The bells and bangles of the gopis and the stamping and clapping of hands and feet joined with the singing of Krishna to fill the night. Some gopis twirled their saris, spinning with Krishna. Others sang back and forth with him, or stepped lightly in time with Beautiful Lord. Some clung tightly to him, crushing their flower garlands into his strong chest, while others barely touched him as they danced in time with the music. The singing and dancing, the twirling saris and intertwining arms was so beautiful that the moon paused in her track across the sky to watch. Gentle deer and sleepy birds watched from the edge of the forest. And Krishna and the gopis danced on, each gopi embracing Krishna as if he was there only for her. Each gopi completely satisfied with Krishna, The Soul of the Universe's touch and gaze.

The gopi's faces and arms dripped with sweat and Krisna wiped the droplets from their cheeks. Garlands of flowers lay crushed on the ground as the gopis, one by one, dropped their arms in exhaustion. Krishna, still expanded to be with each gopi individually, led them to the banks of the Yamuna river and poured the cool water over their faces and hands. They splashed him back playfully and their laughter filled the clearing. The gentle wind picked the scent of flowers from the garlands around the gopis neck and the blossoms in their hair and carried it up to the watching moon. Slowly, slowly, the moon sank, the sun began to rise and the gopis rested in the embrace of Krisna, each gopi held tight, held lovingly, held personally by the Endless Compassionate Lord.

This story of the rasa-lila (playful, beautiful dance) is told in the Bhagavata Purana, an ancient Hindu text, is usually used to illustrate the means and the ends of a life of bhakti, or pure devotion. It has been coming to me this month, though, to remind me of god's ability to love all of us, all the time, personally and individually. Krishna expands and holds each gopi in his arms so that they each feel he is there to dance just with them. The Goddess does this for all of us every day, expressing her motherlove for all of creation through her limitless, endless loving presence. It is mind blowing to think of it, really. The Bible says every hair on your head has been counted by God and every tree in the forest knows her love as much as each child does. Multiply that out even by the number of people, trees, birds and babies you know and it blows the mind. Now multiply it out by all the people who live, ever have lived and ever will live. God really is great. And she loves you. Hallelujah!

You can read more about Krishna and the Gopis by clicking on any of the images in this post, or by reading an etext version of the Bhagavata Purana chapter entitled The Rasa Dance.

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Mother's Moon 2009: Gifts from the Mother

Mother's Moon 2010: You Are the Mother's Beloved Child and Motherlove and Caring for the Environment

Mother's Moon 2011: Freedom and July

July

2011-07-15T11:52:00.000-07:00

Full Mother's Moon

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The full Mother's Moon is upon us and so is summer. As I talked about in my Summer Solstice post, this is the time of late nights and early mornings with long, busy, lovely days in between. I feel like I have been set on Energizer Bunny mode and there is no real end in sight. Its an exciting time, a beautiful time, and a crazy time. The Mother is showering us with gifts of fruit, sunshine, flowers and friendship. Do we see these gifts? What do we do with them? What do we do with all of them??

July
THE meadows slumber in the golden shine;
Full-mirrored in the river's glass serene,
Stirless, the blue sky sleeps; knee-deep in green,
Nigh o'er-content for grazing are the kine.
The russet hops hang ripening on the bine;
The birds are mute; no clouds there are between
The slumbering lands to come and the sun's sheen;
The day is drowsed with Summer's 'wildering wine.
Peace over all is writ: fought is the fight;
From Winter for the nonce the field is won
And the tired earth can slumber in the sun
And dream her summer-dreams of still increase;
Whil'st, as the long rays lengthen to the night,
The breeze o'er all the landscape murmurs 'Peace!'
- John Payne

The weather has been so lovely here in Portland these last two weeks. We've had a couple spells of mid to upper 80s broken up with cooler days. I feel like I have been either opening or closing windows constantly all month to keep the temperature reasonable in the house. I've been camping, hiking, swimming and hanging out on patios like it's going out of style, which in a way it is. Realizing that there are only two more weeks of July and then only 4 weeks of August and then it is September makes you want to run around and soak up all the sunshine and warm weather you can get. Gotta store up that vitamin D and memories of outdoor living for the inevitable gray and wet winter ahead.

The plant life in my neighborhood is showing the first signs of the summer drought. The roadside weeds are clearly no longer in the full flush of growth that they were in three weeks ago. Many grasses are three or four feet tall (and some are even taller) and beginning to ripen their seed heads, adding hints of gold and purple to the green of the medians and unmowed fields. Even the trees seem to have settled out of their sparkling spring green into a more steady summer green. The flashy spring flowers like irises and rhododendrons are past but the beautiful little field flowers are making their appearance in yellows, purples and whites.

And the roses! Portland isn't called the City of Roses for nothing. The area all along the freeway that runs right around downtown Portland is planted in a riot of pink, red and white roses that are all in bloom right now. I get a flush of civic pride every time I drive it. And of course, the rose gardens at Washington Park and Peninsula Park - as well as every grandma's front yard in the neighborhood - are in full, blossom.

Its a frantic time, these long, warm summer days. It's alright, though, to lean into that frantic energy. There will be time for rest and sleep in the shorter, cooler days of autumn yet to come. Its hard to think that summer is sliding into autumn already, but its almost impossible not to feel that way. Counting the weeks, watching the grasses turn colors or even noting that the sun is setting just a few minutes earlier each sunny evening is proof positive that Summer Solstice, while the zenith of the sun's power, is also the tipping point into the waning half of the year.

What does July look like where you are? How are you enjoying summer and the Mother's gifts that come with the long days? Is your area known for any flowers or fruit and are they in season right now? Are you noticing the waning of the year already or does it just look like go go go from your standpoint? Are you remembering your sunscreen? Happy summertime!

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Mother's Moon 2009: Gifts from the Mother

Full Mother's Moon 2010: Motherlove and Caring for the Environment